Bulma's Sacrificial Metamorphosis
by Butane Baby
Summary: Bulma undergoes a dramatic transformation of her own making - one from which she might not recover - that shocks everyone and could endanger lives on Earth. Despite loving her, Vegeta struggles with acceptance and forgiveness as she once did with him. This story contains explicit language and adult situations. Has hurt/comfort/angst elements.
1. Access Denied

**Author's notes:** I couldn't help myself. Netflix-induced inspiration. All reviews welcome, of course! I do not own Dragon Ball Z, its characters, or any other creative license for the series.

* * *

Vegeta cursed bitterly under his breath at the alarm clock screeching from his wife's nightstand. It was 3 a.m., and even though he was an early riser he hated the damn thing. Bulma placed it there so he wouldn't destroy it like the other wall clocks they once had. He thought they were too loud and outdated for their technologically advanced home, but she seemed to like "cheap human antiques." After using his pyrokinetic powers to burn holes through a couple clocks, he later realized that she was teasing him. She found it far more entertaining than arguing over it. For his part, Vegeta mocked her concerns that their estate would go up in flames one day because of his hostility.

"I have a good track record," he always told her.

In the years since they became partners, he had learned to relish silence in the mornings before he trained. He also enjoyed watching Bulma sleep, which often relieved his darker moods. Sometimes he woke up with her head on his chest or feet caressing his ankles. Their seamless intimacy aroused emotions deep inside of him. He realized how much he craved that closeness every single time he gently kissed her neck down to the lowest part of her abdomen **.** Only when her back arched from the sensation did he enter her body for sex. Sometimes they would strike their fists against the bed, or each other, until she moved up higher to receive all of him. His feverish panting and moaning revealed an intense, unquenchable thirst, while her head moved furiously from side to side until her shouting echoed from the walls.

The pleasure they felt those days was never, ever long enough, but lately Bulma seemed more distracted. Instead of making it a problem, Vegeta concentrated further on his own training and mentored eager - and fearful - students forced on him by "Master Krillin." He chuckled about how they were reluctant allies as fighters in years past. Now the diminutive ex-monk had managed to become a respected sensei. He sent Vegeta his best pupils, who all had their asses kicked mightily. The students appeared to appreciate every painful minute of it. **  
**  
Bulma had been setting the alarm earlier to leave for work, but this time Vegeta considered ripping the sheets from their bed until she acknowledged his misery. He usually had a hard time falling back to sleep. The noise didn't rouse her, though, presumably because of her own tiredness. She opened her eyes briefly to greet him before he left hours later. Then she returned to her slumber.

"Ah, well," he said quietly. "You will pay for this," and he almost always kept his word.

The couple also shared responsibility for making breakfast and taking daughter Bulla to school. Vegeta often liked having his "princess" all to himself, which happened this day because Bulma would likely sleep through the morning. He also hadn't told his wife yet about his training with Bulla. He had been conducting their sessions for weeks. When Bulma wasn't up too early, he usually got her to leave the house at "normal" hours so he could have uninterrupted time with the child.

###

Bulla showed just as much promise for fighting as her older brother Trunks did at her age, and she was just as intelligent. Her father took great satisfaction from that knowledge, even if she decided not to follow his exact path later in life. In all truth, he wanted her to grow up applying Bulma's smarts for solving technical problems and his physical strength for defending herself whenever she needed. Humans had long been able to imprint basic education on children's minds from infancy, much like the Saiyan race he came from, but they still required more advanced learning as they matured. Bulla's brainpower, however, outpaced her peers. It annoyed Vegeta that she was surrounded by kids who weren't "at her level." At least he felt that way. Bulma said the girl needed to socialize more.

Although he trained constantly, Vegeta's intellect was just as far-reaching as his Saiyan powers. He had always been an incredibly fast learner. He had to be. He also knew his wife's intelligence matched the best scientists he knew while serving with Frieza's galactic army. Together they were quite a pair. Their half-Saiyan half- human children had the best of both worlds, he felt.

Bulla said nothing about her training, of course, to avoid giving her parents another reason to bicker. Their arguments seemed different recently, but she didn't know why. She often thought most adults acted strangely. Bulma worried some days about the girl's exhaustion but later blamed it on tough school work, while Vegeta ignored it. He vowed to tell her why soon, though. He couldn't understand why she was more protective with Bulla than with Trunks, whose advanced Saiyan powers emerged at age eight. He believed - he knew - that threats to Earth and other parts of the universe were constant. So did Bulma. Perhaps she thought Bulla would be anxious about disappointing him. Regardless, their child was reaching an important milestone, and he intended to see her through it.

 _Where the hell is she? How can her assistants not know?_

Vegeta couldn't find his spouse anywhere. It was getting late, and he wasn't pleased, especially since Bulla was coming home soon and would want to see her. He stomped impatiently through the house until he found the perfect target to vent his frustration.

" _Trunks_!"

" _Yes, papa_? Would you stop yelling, please? I am, like, three feet away from you."

"Have you seen your mother, and _why_ are you here? Do you not have class this afternoon? You are at home way too much to justify her payments for your schooling and living quarters."

Annoyed, Trunks rolled over on the sofa and looked up at him. _It looks like my old man is grumpier than usual today, although I suppose it's not that bad. There goes my nap time._

"Let's do this again, father. Try this greeting. 'Hello, precious son. Have you seen my lovely and eternally patient wife?'"

Vegeta snatched a pillow from underneath Trunks' head and dropped it on his face.

"I _am not_ in the mood for your foolishness, boy - and your reflexes need improvement. Bulma has ruined my sleep the last two weeks with her awful work schedule. She is as exhausted as I am, but there is no reasoning with her. We are arguing too much about _everything_ lately."

Trunks threw the pillow back at him and smiled. "Well, that's a first! You're getting soft in your old age. Here's a tip. You _can_ sleep in another room. Our house has plenty, you know."

"Fine then, my 'precious son.'" Vegeta pressed a timer on his watch. "You have approximately forty-five seconds to leave here before I throw you out."

"All right, all right. Calm down. Mom was just leaving when I arrived midmorning, and she didn't say where she was going. She might be in the underground lab since neither of us can sense her presence, apparently."

"Yes, you are probably right." Vegeta rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I was too tired to remember that, I guess. I expected her back by now. She invited Chi-Chi for dinner at 5:45, and I _do not_ intend to be around. You said what I need to know. _Now get out_."

"Aw, man." Trunks extended a hand to his father, face up, to taunt him. "Where's my reward?"

"You now have fifty seconds to leave, Trunks. That is your reward. I am doing you a favor."

"Well, papa, just do us all a favor and sleep somewhere else tonight. It might help with your crankiness… kind of. Also, may I borrow your red convertible tonight? I have a date."

Vegeta smirked and threw him the car keys. "Your time is up."

###

Bulma had designed her subterranean lab to withstand attacks based on Vegeta's regular testing of the compound. He usually could break in given his strength and first-hand knowledge of the site, but it also had weapons that could mutilate the most cunning invaders - or stall them for long periods. Bulma also added functions to make the lab's access points invisible. It was their crowning achievement, at least until Vegeta observed the infrared laser scan his body at the main work zone.

"Access denied. Intruder alert."

 _"What?!"_


	2. Something Had to Give

"You have sixty seconds before capture. State your purpose."

The main lab's perimeter was one of the most difficult places to enter and exit from within the compound. Vegeta, Bulma, their children, and crucial workers had speed-of-light teleportation access to the location from above ground, bypassing all others. The entire compound housed vital information, along with Earth's Dragon Balls, to support regeneration of planetary resources.

Larger life-sustaining shelters were available for civilians around West City and other places on Earth, which Vegeta and the Z-Fighters knew of. He and Bulma reluctantly decided their compound was the best place for recovery and sustained communications if he didn't have proper backup above ground or the strength to be effective in battle. It would be unwise to attempt to save everyone. As a proud warrior, it wasn't Vegeta's ideal choice, but he made the concession anyway. Reality and love for family made it clear that he was more useful to everyone alive rather than dead. But after he and Goku defeated Majin Buu, after Goku annihilated Frieza, after Gohan defeated Cell, he still believed in incredible chances to turn around dire situations. His Saiyan powers to fight and destroy broadly were as potent as they had ever been. Earth had support from allies on other planets, too.

" _This is Vegeta! Seeking entry to Polaris Terra._ Access _code Avel, Ermai, Marel, Segu, Amlub_."

"Access denied. You have forty seconds."

Like other parts of the compound, security near the main lab was set for containment, not for automatic shoot-to-kill. Firing levels were based on the intensity of outside attack. Bulma and Vegeta and their assistants debated fiercely about that option. Everyone worried about harming possible allies who arrived accidentally. While he understood the concerns, Vegeta thought anyone that strong and determined enough get to that far would likely be an enemy. Even if capture were successful, the danger didn't end. What if intruders could control minds, switch bodies, shape shift, or deplete one's physical energy? He had seen or experienced all those situations as a fighter. They could do severe damage.

It was a tough call. They designed the system to give entrants enough chances to surrender - but not many. Stronger assaults would prompt stronger measures, including targeted radiation that could melt bodily organs, but that was one of the last modes of defense. **  
**  
"You have thirty seconds. State your purpose."

Pummeling the area with _ki_ blasts would kick-off an intense barrage of firepower that Vegeta didn't want to trigger. He had already powered up to Super Saiyan, so he could certainly handle the fusillade for a while, but much more was at stake. He could sense Bulma's _ki_ signature, albeit not strongly, but he couldn't open any emergency line of communication.

" _Shit._ _Bulma!_ _Can you hear me? Are you all right?!_ "

Then there was the poison gas. The first round wasn't crafted to exterminate, but it could paralyze one's body until the antidote was given. More aggressive attackers - if they survived being shot at and continued to fight - would receive a deadlier gas.

If Vegeta didn't move at all, the first gas sequence would detonate and knock him out indefinitely. He didn't worry about the killer gas because he was immune. Bulma and everyone else working there had been inoculated against the toxin.

"You have twenty seconds."

###

Bulma barely looked up from the control panel to acknowledge him. She was hungry and her head hurt. She rubbed her temples to dull the discomfort.

"What the hell _was_ _that_ , Vegeta?" she said curtly. "You froze. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it."

The Prince's face was expressionless, but his entire body had turned a dark shade of red. He was enraged.

"You weren't on your game today," Bulma continued. "You had options to handle the situation appropriately, and you picked the worst. You used the discharge vacuum to get here. Why?"

Vegeta took several deep breaths so he could respond somewhat reasonably to what he felt was poorly timed criticism. "I _do not_ believe I made the worst choice, Bulma. I am here with you, am I not? Now tell me, _what_ _the hell_ _were you doing_?"

"You didn't follow protocol," she said. "I should not be your first priority if a breach happens here. We house important data and resources in other places that need the kind of protection and knowledge you can provide. Other people _work_ here. If I'm hurt or threatened, my information will be encrypted and sent elsewhere. Besides that, the kids may need your help too."

He was ready to throw her out of a window.

" _You think I do not know that?! I helped redesign and build this fucking place with you!_ You had no right - none - to test my response without my knowledge. And you have _the nerve_ to bring our children into this? Damn it, woman. This is certainly not the best way to make your point."

Bulma turned and slammed her hands on the counter.

" _I beg to differ._ You are here with me, are you not? This shouldn't be about your concern for me, nor should it be about trust in our marriage, Vegeta. You know that, and we've worked too hard. Worse, you approached the zone's perimeter without wearing your transparent body suit. Even Trunks follows that rule religiously.

"You had a much stronger chance of being killed not only by the system, but by anyone. You didn't know _what_ was in here with me, which you could've found out eventually by retreating to other parts of the compound. Of course I didn't set up this test to harm you, but you were the one who insisted on these security changes, so you should be prepared for them."

Vegeta knew she was right. The rugged commander in him accepted that, and his glaring, emotion-driven mistakes embarrassed him, but it didn't make what Bulma did any better.

"I just… _cannot do_ _this_ with you now," he said. "I will not do this. What is wrong with you? Why are you being so obsessive? Forget the last couple weeks. You have been edgy for months. For all of your activity, it does not seem like you are enjoying it."

"You're saying _I'm_ obsessive? Don't even think about going there with me, Vegeta. Not with the kind of life you've lived."

He clenched his fists. " _Enough!_ I am leaving. I assume you canceled dinner with Kakarot's insufferable wife - which is excellent for me - but I know our daughter would appreciate having you all to herself for a meal, even if you come late."

Vegeta was much better at getting digs in when he was upset. Bulma was very, very good at it too, but her husband's ability to verbally burn his rivals was legendary. He had lived a hard life, and the behavior sustained him. However, after they settled down, the couple vowed to avoid that conduct within their relationship. Arguments came and went - they often had fun with them - but they weren't corrosive like the ones that gradually destroyed other relationships. That was the last thing they wanted, but they both wondered occasionally how long it would last.

"When did you plan to tell me about training Bulla?"

"Ah, I see now." Vegeta massaged the stubble on his chin. "This is payback. How spiteful of you, Ms. Brief. What I find interesting is your overconfidence that this argument has nothing to do with _your_ _trust_ in our marriage."

Bulma didn't know how to respond. The situation was more complicated than her husband realized, and the fight she picked with him was becoming more of a problem than she wanted it to be.

"You don't have to belittle me, Vegeta. What I did just now has nothing do with our daughter."

"I believe it does, and your attempt to punish me does not fit the crime," he said. "Woman, I planned to tell you about Bulla today, among other things, but I have no desire to talk anymore. Do not wait up for me. Trunks wisely said I should sleep elsewhere, so I am taking his advice."

Bulma grabbed his arm as he attempted to leave. "Please wait. _Please_."

 _That_ _voice_. No matter angry he was, Bulma's voice always got to him _._ In his youth Vegeta would've clearly called it a weakness, but he had long stopped caring about that. Sometimes the tone of her voice conveyed her remorse, which was all he needed, even if she didn't automatically say the words. But he wasn't so sure about her regret this time.

He sighed and removed her hand from his shoulder. "What now?"

"I'm working hard to finish a project that involves us both," she said. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, what is it?"

"Just give me a few more weeks and you'll know everything."

"None of this makes any sense, Bulma. Why can you not tell me now? My patience is thin. Find me when you are ready to talk."

"Vegeta, there really are good reasons for my actions. Just give me a few more weeks. _Please_."

Bulma didn't want him to leave. Not like this. He had to calm down. She made a big mistake by testing him and then arguing with him so vehemently. Her reaction was impulsive and prompted by nervousness. That's why she told him _just enough_ about her work, but it wasn't enough to ease his suspicion. Her behavior was too erratic. She knew he would pressure her to discuss all of it later. In all truth, he would be entitled to know, but her plans needed to be well underway before telling him everything.

Vegeta stood gloomily with his arms crossed. It was taking too long to walk away from her. He felt humiliated by her scolding, but he didn't move when she pressed her body into his and kissed him. He soon became hard and wet as she rubbed her thighs on his midsection and fondled the place where his tail had once been with her fingers. She laughed softly when his eyelids dropped and his head fell backward from arousal. The metal examination table he leaned on was cold, too, which made him even harder. She figured it would, so she grasped and stroked his erection faster until he began to thrust convulsively into her hand. He began to feel light-headed as she pushed him into a reclining position across the table and drew his penis into her mouth. She wanted him to taste her offering, and he wanted her to taste his.

Then he rejected both.

This was manipulation, and it almost worked. He didn't appreciate it.

Vegeta lifted his wife and stared into her eyes like he was examining a lab specimen. It reminded Bulma of the way he observed his opponents before fighting them.

"Let go of me, Bulma - now. I want to be in the right state of mind to talk. You should want that also. I will tell Bulla you are coming up soon. Trunks may still be around as well."

This time Bulma felt humiliated. She wiped the sweat from her chest and forehead and returned to the control panel.

"Understood, and I won't wait up for you tonight."

Bulma waited until after he left to scream. She was tired, and it aggravated her that Vegeta was just now recognizing the cracks in her physical and mental armor. She had been working secretly on her project when she could for three years, in addition to overseeing new lab operations and trying to be a loving parent. Something had to give, but she knew it was unfair to lay blame on him completely. Everyone has a choice. She had made hers, which meant she was invested in acting normally for as long as possible. She tried to convince herself her decision wasn't a deal with the devil.

She and Vegeta weren't having sex as much either, but that wasn't what kept them together. They genuinely loved each other, but Bulma also felt her husband's yearning for something she couldn't provide. His longing was evident when he sat outside at night staring into the darkness. He still struggled with his identity, even though their family brought him happiness, and even though he once risked it all to save the universe. That's why she was impatient about completing her work, she told herself.

She poured herself a glass of scotch and opened a communication portal.

"Hello again, Bulma. Are you OK?"

"Not really. Vegeta and I had a blowout just now. I did something stupid."

"So that's why you shut us off so quickly. I understand. Do you want to continue working?"

"No, let's stop." Bulma paused and set her glass on the control panel. "I need to see my daughter, Kaleb."

"Not a problem. I have a doting child, too, as you well know. It sounds like you're drinking something."

Bulma felt awkward about his observation but quickly decided that she didn't care. She could either finish the small glass of alcohol in her hand or scream in frustration for another hour before seeing her family again.

"It's scotch on the rocks," she said. "I don't drink often, but it does come in handy on days like this. I won't be in as late tomorrow, but don't expect to see me too early either."

"Bulma, don't let whatever happened with Vegeta upset you. We're almost there. He will eventually see the good in this."

She stirred the ice in her glass and opened rotating 3-D images onscreen of Goku, Vegeta, and Gohan.

"I hope so, Kaleb. I hope so. You know, it's so strange calling you by that name now."

"My name suits me. When we're done, yours will suit you. Good night."

###

Bulla and Vegeta were in the dining room when Bulma entered. She looked a bit messy in her lab coat, but she managed to pull herself together to be ready to listen to whatever her daughter wanted talk about.

"Hi, mommy!"

Vegeta wiped his mouth and continued eating as the girl ran to hug her mother.

"Hiya, girlie!" Bulma smiled and looked around the table. "I see your papa ordered dinner."

"Yeah, it's really good," Bulla said. "Are you hungry?"

Bulma pulled out a chair to sit next to her. "I'm starving. Thank you both for leaving enough food for me."

"You almost lost out on that," Vegeta said. "Now if you two will excuse me, I am going for a walk outside."

"No, papa." Bulla lowered her eyes and began to pout. "Please stay longer. You and mommy should discuss what you both did today."

Vegeta and Bulma glared at each other.

"You go first, Bulma," he said.

"Well, Bulla, I actually have a question for you," she said. "How's training going?"

Bulla's eyes grew wide. She glanced at Vegeta, who nodded for her to continue.

"It's fantastic! I'm so glad papa finally told you. We thought you'd be upset at first, but I really wanted to do this. It's not all his fault."

"Honey, to be honest, I'm worried that you'll pressure yourself to do too much too soon."

"Not at all, mommy. Papa is extremely tough, but he wants me to feel good about each goal I reach."

Vegeta placed his hands on the table and stood. "I have to say good night now. Bulla, forgive me, but I do need some alone time."

"Sure, papa. I'll tell mommy more about what we've done."

Bulma ruffled Bulla's hair as Vegeta bent down to kiss the child.

"Vegeta, I left my scotch and a glass for you in the bedroom near the rock garden," she said. "Also, I'll take her to school tomorrow."

"That works for me," he said. "Bulla, we'll continue our training later this week."

"Papa, what's going on? Why are you in the guest room tonight?"

"Well, princess, if you must know, your mother snores like a buzzsaw these days, and I need my rest."

Bulla burst into laughter, while Bulma tried to hold back hers.

For a moment Vegeta's eyes flashed. Bulma touched the middle part of her neck and looked away.

"You have asked enough questions, child," he said. "Enjoy your time with your mother."


	3. Rethinking Priorities

Bulma was coming down with a cold. She had felt achy and nauseated the entire week, which she attributed to her schedule and to completing her final round of gene therapy. She was overjoyed that the latter was finished. She would chat later with Kaleb about her immune system's response to their experiment, but she had to work through the weekend, without interruption, to finish other projects. The cold was another minor problem to manage. She didn't take medicine because she often recovered quickly from such ailments.

Vegeta was halfway on the other side of the world. He had been traveling for a week, although he had no particular person to visit. Rather, he told Bulma he "wanted to see something different." The behavior wasn't typical for him. He had visited many places on Earth, but almost all trips were with the entire family. This time he took his daughter with him.

The couple had become more detached before he left. Vegeta continued sleeping in the guest room despite Bulma's invitations to return to their bedroom. He wanted to be close to her again more than anything in the world, but first they had to excavate some buried bones in their relationship. They met in their kitchen to discuss his concerns.

He handed her a cup of coffee and sat down. "Bulma, I want you to understand that I am not angry anymore about our argument at the lab, but what happened was symptomatic of a larger problem. I do not know what it is, but we need space to figure it out."

"Vegeta, I'm always suspicious when one partner tells the other that they both need space," she said. "It's dishonest. You're guiding the conversation here. _You_ want space."

" _Tch._ Well, woman, since you dislike my assessment, what is your explanation?"

"It's simple," she said. "You want more control: control of my behavior, control of our daughter's development, control of how outsiders interact with us. Shall I continue?"

Vegeta observed her body language. Her comments were hurtful enough, but he hadn't seen her so closed off to him in years. Her arms were drawn in, while her foot tapped on the floor. She sat an angle rather than facing him directly. Her defensiveness seemed more like _shame._

"Bulma, perhaps you should 'look in mirror,' as you humans like to say. I have sensed your unhappiness for some time, but I was not sure how I could get you to discuss it. What I do know is that I have tried hard to reassure you of my commitment.

"You are not angry with anything I have done lately per se. I suspect you are unhappy because you feel as if you are missing something. Deep down, maybe you blame me. If I am right, then say it. You could blame me for lots of things, I am sure, but we can work through them. We have a history of doing that, right?"

Bulma used her forefingers to wipe her tears. It took a hell of a lot for Vegeta to be that vulnerable with her, but she still moved away when he tried to touch her.

Vegeta lowered his arm and inhaled. He couldn't take any more rejection right then, but he also considered what Bulma went through with him before they settled down together. Some of her behavior was long overdue, he felt - but not all of it.

"So be it," he said. "Think about what we discussed here. Bulla and I will return around the middle of next week. I will keep you informed about our whereabouts."

###

Bulma's sneezing and coughing had worn her out by Monday. She was surprised by the ferocity of her cold. She had been getting more sleep, but fatigue penetrated every muscle in her body. She was seated with her head buried in her arms when the control panel beeped. The page had to be answered - it was her research partner Kaleb - but she was ready to pass out.

"Are you feeling OK, Bulma? You don't look like it. Your eyes are bloodshot."

Bulma sneezed twice and wiped her nose. "No, Kaleb, I feel dreadful and need to be in bed. I have a horrible cold that started Thursday after we finished work."

"Then you worked through the weekend and your cold got worse," he said. "Your immunity is lower, at least temporarily, because of your gene therapy."

"I know that, but I didn't expect to be this sick. I'm glad it's not flu season or I'd probably be dead in a coffin by now. Anyway, I'm taking this week off. Vegeta is traveling with Bulla."

"When will you tell him about your plans? Didn't you ask him to give you a month or so? Your body is in the early stages of transitioning. We saw this in your blood tests. Vegeta will be highly upset when phenotypic changes show up on your body."

"Yes, Kaleb. If I sprouted a fluffy Saiyan tail tomorrow, it would likely scare the shit out him. I know."

"It's up to you, my friend. Feel better. I won't bother you this week, but let me know if strange stuff starts happening."

"Strange stuff?" Bulma raised her eyebrows. "That's some impressive scientific jargon. I'm going to bed now. Bye."

She felt nauseated once she returned to the house, so she decided to make tea. It was dusk, and skylights in her family room glistened above her head. She snoozed on a sofa bed while soft music played in the background. Her home was blessedly quiet - until someone paged her once again. This time it was Trunks.

She switched on the projection screen to transfer his image there instead of speaking into her watch.

"Hey mom, why are you curled up on the sofa?"

Bulma dabbed a tissue at her nose and cleared her throat. "Maybe because it's my house and my furniture, son?"

"Oh, wow. You're sick. I can hear it in your voice."

"I am very much sick, smart guy. Can I help you with something, or may I return to sleep now?"

"Mom, I'm coming over."

Bulma pulled her blankets around her shoulders. "Coming to do what, Trunks? Do you plan to eat me out of house and home like last week? No friggin way."

"Of course not, Dr. Brief," Trunks said. "I feel like I should stay with you until papa and Bulla return."

"That's kind of you, sweetheart, but I'll recover in a few days. I took the week off. I don't want you to get sick either."

Trunks' image moved in closer onscreen. "That wasn't a request, mother. That was a declarative statement. I'll be there in an hour and a half. May I bring you something?"

Bulma began to laugh but ended up coughing again. "Ugh, I haven't had a cold like this in ages. Bring two giant tubs of vegetable and chicken soup from that restaurant near your campus. I have juice here."

"I will!" Trunks blew a kiss to her onscreen. "Thanks for letting me help, mom. Go back to sleep."

Bulma had been thinking lately about the day Trunks was born, including her choice to have his tail removed. She had good, sound reasons for doing it back then, but she felt regret too.

 _He's such a wonderful kid. I wonder how he'll react as I change._

She was sleeping soundly by the time Trunks arrived. He was unsure about awakening her because she looked spent. However, he was more concerned about his parents sleeping separately. He knew their disputes weren't solely about his mother's schedule.

He touched her shoulder softly. "Mom, I'm here now. I have your food. I'll stay and eat with you here."

Bulma felt groggy, but she was able sit up. "Hi, buddy. Thanks. I'll definitely eat some now, but you may need to set it aside for later. I am still slightly sick to my stomach. My sense of smell has been so strong this past week, too."

"That's fine," Trunks said. "I'm sure you will be hungry later. Have you taken medicine?"

"No, I'd rather let this sickness run its course."

Bulma retired to her bed later that night after Trunks fell asleep in the family room. She just couldn't pull herself together. What if her body was rejecting the gene therapy? She considered paging Kaleb but then calmed herself after having another sneezing attack. She had nothing more than a bad cold.

Before he left home, Vegeta decided that he wouldn't intensely track Bulma, Trunks, or anyone else's _ki_ signatures while he traveled. His brain was always "on," and he wanted a break. His daughter was the exception because of her youth, and because she hadn't learned the technique well enough yet to protect herself in his absence. He had to block out some of the noise in his head, though. He was reaching yet another point in life that would demand much from him. How much would the principles and priorities he and Bulma shared change? He had to think it through - be rational. The farther away he was the better, at least for awhile.

He remembered taking Trunks on a similar trip to bond with him. Vegeta wanted his son to know he was invested in his well-being. He would never be a gushing parent, but he was serious about his duty. He was also paying penance for his indifference about his son's welfare when Bulma first gave birth to him.

He decided to harass Trunks by speakerphone on his way home.

"Where are you, boy?"

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Dude, you can't sense where I am? I know you're close to home."

"So you must be there eating my food."

"What _is it_ with you and mom about my eating habits? I'm starting to get offended. I am part Saiyan, you know."

"I know what you are, 'dude.' How is your mother?"

"Again, why can't you sense her, papa? Did you get knocked in the head or something?"

"I have my reasons for not being tuned in. How is Bulma?"

"She's been sick the last few days. She's taking off this week."

"What do you mean sick?"

"She's has a terrible cold, papa. It's like the worst. She also said something about other symptoms before the cold began. I've been here since Monday."

"I'll be home soon, Trunks." Vegeta shut off the phone and massaged the back of his neck.

Bulla began to bite her nails. "What do you think? Colds usually don't kill people, you know."

Vegeta looked over at her and frowned. "You should wait until I see your mother when we get home. She would kill me if you got sick, and stop biting your nails."

When they arrived, Trunks told his father that Bulma had been vomiting that day and the night before. He had been worried, but Bulma tried to reassure him that strong coughing may have caused it.

"All right, son. Are you having any symptoms?"

"Nope. I'm fine, papa. Just go see about mom. She finally took medicine and was resting fairly well when I was upstairs earlier, but I was just heading back. I think she might be feeling worse."

"You are right," Vegeta said. "Do me a favor and make a meal for your sister. She likes it when you cook, and she needs a distraction."

Vegeta heard Bulma throwing up again before he reached the top of the stairs. His heart anxiously skipped a beat when he found her on the bathroom floor, bleary-eyed, in her pajamas. Her lips were chafed and her skin was dry and pale. He immediately fell on his knees and put his arm around her waist.

She closed her eyes in relief as he wiped her face with a wet facecloth. "Thank you, honey. Where are the kids?"

"They are fine. Bulma, I believe you are dehydrated, and something else might be wrong. I am taking you for treatment."

"No, Vegeta, I just need to… the folks in the compound can help."

"You need to be silent, woman. I am taking you there."

Ron, the in-house physician treating her, later affirmed Vegeta's judgment about her condition.

"Did you lose your senses, Dr. Brief?" he said. "You waited too long to care for yourself. I knew it. I should've said something to you much earlier."

"Ron, do not lecture my wife until she can respond appropriately," Vegeta said. "I am not the most forgiving person."

Bulma tugged on his shirt. "It's OK. Stop scaring the doctor. The IV fluids are helping. I'm already feeling better."

Ron sat next to the gurney and squeezed her hand. "Bulma, other than your dehydration and cold, the results from the basic blood tests we performed look good. I saw some abnormal looking red and white blood cells, but that happens occasionally. See a hematologist if other symptoms arise. You know what they are."

Bulma smiled. "Yes, I do. Thank you, Ron. See, Vegeta? Nothing else is wrong with me."

"Indeed," Vegeta said, "but the doctor is not finished yet. What is it?"

Ron looked at both of them with a wide grin. "Bulma, you're pregnant. Congratulations to you both."


	4. Now More Than Ever

**Thank you for the feedback! Like you, I have numerous questions running around my mind, but I tend to overthink - kinda like what Whis told Vegeta during training. :)**

* * *

Bulma felt a lump rise in her throat.

" _Holy shit_. Are you absolutely sure about this, doctor?"

Vegeta shook his head in disbelief. "I think… I need to sit down."

"Yes, Bulma," Ron said. "I'm absolutely sure. You're almost twelve weeks into your pregnancy. I'm not sure why your morning sickness started so late - and all at once. I want you to stay on the anti-nausea drug I provided when you go home."

Vegeta struggled to maintain his composure. Anxiety had been an unwelcome, commanding presence in his mind ever since he and Bulma stopped sleeping together. The intensity was unusual, and this development didn't help.

"Another child?" he said. "Bulma is in her late - uh, I mean, her mid-forties. How did this happen?"

Bulma frowned. Vegeta wasn't trying to insult her, but his unenthusiastic reaction hurt. However, she was more upset about the looming threat to their relationship if her experiment harmed the fetus.

"Oh, come now," she said. "We may not have had as much sex lately, but we're still in great shape, apparently."

Vegeta was having none of it.

"Am I the only sane person here? This is serious, Bulma! You have a much higher risk for complications."

"You're right," Ron said, "but I'm sure we can work through that. And it's not uncommon for some women to discover they're pregnant later. Bulma, perhaps you've been in some denial…"

"Stop right there," she said. "You know better than to say something like that to me. I was on birth control and it didn't work this time. It happens. It's likely that I didn't notice early signs because of stress."

Ron bowed and smiled. "I didn't mean to offend you, Dr. Brief. I'll leave you two alone now."

Vegeta's silence made Bulma uneasy. She was relieved that the doctor left the examination room safely before being thrown out. Only when she began to cough again did he look up.

"Well," she said, "I guess it will take a few more days before this cold clears up completely."

"What did you mean _it happens_?" he said quietly. "Your other pregnancies strained your body, and that was with the best medical care. Are you sure about carrying another child full term?"

"This isn't the time, Vegeta," she said, nodding at the door. "Your mind is crossing into territory that we should discuss once the shock wears off. I want to go home right now."

Taking Bulma's cue, he stood and clutched the handle. "That is not an option. You heard the doctor. You have extreme exhaustion. Staying here overnight for monitoring is appropriate."

"Papa, may Bulla and I come in now?"

"Yes, Trunks. Your mother and I have something to tell you."

 _Something wasn't right_. Vegeta's gut reaction unsettled him. Fathering for a new child wasn't the problem. He had another 50 years or more of living to do, he hoped, and expected to be fit and mentally sharp through them all. He would always be prepared for battle, though, for good or ill. Fighting was in his blood, and his family understood that, but his children would always know he cared deeply for them.

What he feared was losing Bulma far too early, either to premature death or emotional separation. Even though they were middle-aged, their marriage was still in young adulthood in some ways. They had been through a lot, and they needed each other's support now more than ever.

###

Vegeta's return to their bed was bittersweet for Bulma. She had a lot of ground to cover and not much time. To his chagrin, she returned to work within a few days, even though she was advised to rest another week. Rather than argue, he simply gave her space, but he reserved the right to intervene if she didn't care for herself suitably. She won many arguments in the past because he strongly identified with her ambition. Her work ethic matched his, which invigorated him, but the stakes were higher now.

Kaleb had been deep in thought when Bulma entered his lab. His eyes swiftly scanned her from top to bottom. Her unsteadiness concerned him, but he was pleased she visited in person. He dimmed the lights as a preventative measure so she wouldn't become overstimulated.

"You need more rest, doctor. Have a seat."

Bulma put on a lab coat and waved her arm at him dismissively. "Yeah, I'm not fully recovered, but I must know if the fetus has been harmed. That's the only reason why I'm here. Vegeta has watched me like a hawk since I've been home, so let's be efficient."

Kaleb lifted her chin as she stood in front of him. "Let me examine your eyes."

"I don't need you to look at my eyes, Kaleb."

"Bulma, _sit down_ ," he said impatiently. "Your stubbornness will only make things harder. This won't take long."

The self-interested scientist in Kaleb was thrilled by his discovery, but he remained calm. Stopping Bulma from losing faith was his highest priority. She was his test model. If all went well, he could repeat the results endlessly.

"Your eyes are changing color, and your retina is forming a new layer of photosensitive cells," he said. "It won't be too long before your hair texture and skin color change. I know you're upset, but please keep your senses. You know we need a couple weeks before performing standard prenatal tests for the baby."

Bulma shook her head. "I have to tell Vegeta right now. I have to tell him."

Kaleb was tired of hearing her fret over Vegeta. They had grown closer as they worked together, but he knew where Bulma's loyalty would always remain. He encouraged her countless times to tell her husband up front about their work, in case something went wrong, even if it wrecked his plans temporarily. Vegeta may have been a reformed family man, but he still had a fearsome temper, especially if he felt any member of his clan were in danger. Kaleb certainly didn't want to be murdered for his role in the experiment. Bulma could be persuasive, so he hoped Vegeta would see the benefit given the extent of her sacrifice.

He had his own ideas for the Prince, too.

"Look, Bulma, you can't return here until Vegeta knows. We'll weather whatever happens afterward."

"You know I haven't given up my identity," she said. "That just won't happen. I just didn't expect the rest of this."

Kaleb embraced her as she wept. He hadn't held a woman in a long time, and this felt good. He let go when he felt his hands move toward the small of her back. She didn't realize what happened, but he knew he had to stop. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn't it.

"I know," he said. "Now go see him."

###

Vegeta had powered up before Son Goku appeared behind him. He quickly pivoted and placed his rival in a choke hold, until Goku fired a medium-strength ki blast into his left side.

 _Disgraceful. That was a terrible move. What is he doing?_

Vegeta flipped over Goku's head and landed on the ground. "You insult me, Kakarot! I did not come to play warm-up games."

"Neither did I," Goku said, "and remember, you asked me to come. You're distracted."

Vegeta crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. "You know nothing, you fool."

Goku slapped him on the back and grinned. "Give me a break. I know you better than you think. Something is on your mind."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. " _Really_ , _Kakarot_? Since you know so much, what do you think the problem is then?"

"Bulma, of course!"

Vegeta's face turned red. "I have fought repeatedly without letting my feelings for my wife distract me… too much."

"Oh yeah, but there's something different," Goku said gleefully. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

"Stop that before I kick you hard enough to end your sex life, you idiot."

"You like me too much for that, Vegeta. Now tell me. I promise I'll keep it to myself."

Vegeta chewed inside of his cheek. Sharing all of his insecurities wouldn't happen, but he figured his fellow Saiyan should know about his plans.

"Kakarot, I want to visit with the Saiyans in Universe 6 for a while, but Bulma is pregnant. I wanted to taker her and our children with me, but now…."

"Bulma's going to have a baby?! Congratulations!"

Vegeta stamped his foot on the ground. "You asked me to talk, now shut up and let me finish!"

"OK." Goku scratched the back of his head. "Just don't yell anymore. It's grown a bit old."

Vegeta sighed. "I have been interested ever since we learned about our kinsmen and their good works there. Beyond meeting you on Earth, I never thought I would see any Saiyans ever again after my planet was destroyed."

"Um, so what about the compound and Capsule Corporation?"

"I am sure both will be fine. The rest of you are here, and Bulma has considered giving Gohan full access to manage some operations at the compound. That depends on how much he wants to research rather than work directly with patients."

Goku hurled some apples at Vegeta and smiled. "My son is much smarter than I am, so I'm sure he'll make the right choice. It's great that you and Bulma have faith in him."

Vegeta laughed heartily. "Yes, indeed. Gohan is more intelligent than you. I suppose it makes up somewhat for his choice not to train anymore. He'll do well."

 **"** Vegeta, I know you're trying to be mister tough guy, but it sounds like you want to stay on Planet Sadal longer than a while. Taking your family is a big deal."

"I want them to see another side - Bulma especially. Perhaps I can persuade the Saiyans to visit here as well."

Goku wasn't surprised. He understood Vegeta's motivations, but he would never have the same aspiration.

"Maybe you can do that," he said, "but you know, it's OK if you decide to live there. I won't take it personally if you left with Bulma. She is my best friend, so continue to take good care of her."

"Kakarot, you did not hear me say a thing about leaving permanently. I am committed to protecting Earth with my wife and the rest of you."

###

Bulma returned to bed after leaving Kaleb's lab. Vegeta arrived shortly thereafter. He felt the full weight of her fatigue before entering their house, even though she had been feeling better.

 _Stubborn woman._

"Vegeta, is that you?"

"Yes."

"Are you coming upstairs?"

"I will be up soon to shower, Bulma. I saw Kakarot."

Vegeta emerged later from the bathroom surrounded by a wall of steam. The hot fog forced Bulma to remove her reading glasses while he sat and dried his hair. He thought he saw a slight tremor in one of her hands but then berated himself for being overprotective.

"So you decided to come back and rest," he said. "Good. Your business will be fine a few more days without you."

Bulma lifted the blankets for him to lie down. "I can't stay in bed for another week."

"Only your body can tell you that, woman, but you know my terms. I am not worried currently. You came home early, so it appears that you recognize your limits."

"My god." Bulma covered both cheeks with her hands. "Who stole my husband's body? You're an impostor! Help!"  
 **  
**Vegeta winked and kissed her shoulder. When his head neared her breasts, she grabbed him by the chin and bit his lips.

"Damn it," he said, dropping his face onto her chest. "Your humor is unwelcome. I was enjoying that."

Bulma patted his forehead. "Yes, you were."

" _Hn._ Very well. I am going to the kitchen."

"That's fine, Vegeta. I guess we have a lot more catching up to do."

He paused and looked back. "I agree."


	5. Wanted

Gohan had been walking slowly to the study lab, where his interns worked, until he heard a familiar voice bellowing down the hall. Cursing to himself, he approached the hulking figure from behind and shook his head. The man was purposely blocking the door, trapping everyone inside.

 _God help me. Why is he here?_

His father-in-law was having a fit.

"Don't you know who I am?! I'm the champ, Mr. Satan, and I have a right to be here as much as any of you nerdy scientific types! I help pay for the work you do around here, and I know my son-in-law Gohan would never…"

 _"Stop it, Hercule!"_

Once again, Mr. Satan had ignored the tiny voice in his head telling him to play nice with others. He had once been a revered martial artist, so he understood humility - conceptually. His inability to apply that virtue _consistently_ was the problem. His ego had been bruised that day, and he was yowling like an old hound dog about it. He knew there would be hell to pay later, but his reasons for wanting to see Gohan were pure.

"Uh, hey there, Gohan!" he said with a toothy grin. "I've waited to see you for more than an hour. Your helpers said they couldn't find you, and I know when I've been lied to. In my younger days, I told some whoppers myself to save my ass too. They should know better."

 _Some_ _is an understatement_ , Gohan thought. _I really don't need this now._

Myra, Gohan's lead assistant, was fed up and decided to speak for the group. "This is ridiculous, Dr. Son. He is _such_ a joke and has no good reason to be here. We know about the sacrifices your family and the other fighters made when Earth was attacked. _This guy_ finally admitted as much - finally - after convincing everyone that he helped win those battles. It's amazing that he still shows his face in public."

Gohan walked toward her, stopping inches from her face. " _You know_ _nothing_ \- not about me or Mr. Satan - so do yourself a favor and be quiet! You all were aware that I couldn't have my phone where I was. Someone should've paged me, _full stop_. If this is the standard to which you hold yourselves, then maybe you shouldn't be here."

By this time Gohan's face had darkened. His interns were visibly disturbed by the change, along with Myra. She had crossed a line by mocking Hercule, but something else was affecting Gohan's behavior. To be sure, he was a demanding instructor, but he had always been a kind person.

"I… I apologize, Dr. Son," she said. "It didn't seem that serious. We just thought you didn't want to be interrupted."

"Well, _just thinking_ got everyone double shifts, starting tomorrow," Gohan replied, "and you'll have plenty to do."

Hercule touched Gohan's shoulder to calm him. "It's fine. The young lady is right. You know I can be an old fool sometimes."

"They work with me now, so I expect discipline." Gohan began to shut off the lights at their workstations. "And folks, while you're working this weekend, don't forget to thank Myra for not exercising restraint with her mouth. Perhaps that will teach you to be more careful about letting others speak for you. _Now go_."

Hercule wiped his broad forehead with a handkerchief as Gohan's newly depressed interns exited. He appreciated his son-in-law's defense. For as long as they had known each other, not once had Gohan ever acted embarrassed of him. He loved him for that.

Gohan pushed a chair toward him to sit. "What the hell were you thinking, Hercule? You better have a damn good reason for hazing them. That's my role, not yours, especially since you're on the board. Throwing your weight around doesn't help either of us."

"I wasn't hazing - or I wasn't trying to, at least. I'm sorry, Gohan. It's just that you barely said two words to Pan and me this morning. That's why I'm here. Let's visit the cemetery before sunset. You haven't been there once since Videl died."

Gohan hoped he could get through at least eight hours that day without being reminded about his wife's death. Leaving his bed had been hard enough. He even asked his parents not to discuss the subject.

"And _why_ would I want to?" he said. "Don't do this with me. I have a lot on my mind today."

"You should want to because my granddaughter needs us, and Videl was my only child," Hercule said as his eyes welled up with tears. "Look, I understand how you feel. Even though we were divorced, I struggled when Videl's mother died too, but you can't let your loss consume you. I'm seeing more of that in your eyes every day."

Gohan turned to gather his belongings. There would be no crying today - none. "I will meet you at home for dinner and have a gift for Pan," he said. "That's the best I can do, and there's nothing in my eyes besides fatigue."

"Fine then," Hercule replied. "Let's have your parents and the Briefs over for a late meal, and maybe Krillin's family too. I mean, it's summertime now. I can have food and wine delivered quickly for all of us. Pan will be delighted to see Bulla."

"Hercule, I'm not up for a crowd, and that includes my parents. Pan will spend the weekend with them. Vegeta and Bulma wouldn't be able to come tonight anyway, either."

"Why? Everything OK with those two?"

"I'm surprised Pan didn't tell you. She and Bulla share almost everything."

"Tell me what, Gohan?"

"Bulma is pregnant. She hasn't been feeling well lately."

"Well, hot damn!" Hercule roared with laughter. After stopping to catch his breath, he slapped his knees and hooted louder. "I wonder how that cranky son of a bitch Vegeta feels about _that_. They officially have a little Saiyan army now."

Exasperated, Gohan looked at his watch. "Fatherhood has mellowed Vegeta's personality over the years. Now then, I need to transcribe some research notes."

"OK, I'm leaving," Hercule said. "You know old guys like me feel good when people listen to their advice. I'm glad you're willing to take a break. See you tonight. We'll still have a feast. Also, please reconsider your punishment for those young folks. I will apologize to them."

After the door closed, Gohan covered his face with his hands, while his body dropped to the floor. He could barely breathe, but he was determined to regain control - to maintain it. Several minutes passed before he noticed an encrypted text message on his phone. He immediately knew who sent it:

 _Hi there. I was so distracted by my own problems that I failed to ask about you. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I know this is a really rough day for you. As you tell me often, hang in there. Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder. - BB  
_  
He erased it.

###

Vegeta found Bulma fast asleep when he returned to their bedroom, which he had expected, so he decided to take a stroll outside before dusk. He hadn't paid much attention to his appearance after showering, until his saw his reflection in a mirror near the back door. He looked like a wild man, unshaven, with his hair spiked in every direction - well, more than it typically was. Yet his swarthy skin and chiseled, muscular frame retained their rugged youthfulness. No one could mistake him for a 25-year-old, though. He was still "of a certain age." This visage amused him because he felt comfortable in his own skin. He was a fighter, lover, father, and, most surprisingly, a loyal defender of people who had legitimate reasons to reject him. It had been a long time coming.

And yet the proud Saiyan prince felt sadness at times, when he thought about the birthright that had been brutally stripped from him as a child. He had suffered for years under Frieza's colonial rule - and, later, inflicted terrible suffering on others, for which he paid a high price. When he was younger, the power he craved and fought for was a fervent attempt to dull the pain. And he was fucking furious - furious! He wanted everyone who had the misfortune of meeting him to share in that misery. Then he learned that love, forgiveness, _and_ great power were attainable and could coexist. They made him stronger.

Life was far better now, miraculously, but in some ways he still felt like an orphan in strange land. There would be no further heart-wrenching discussions about his ambivalence, though. Bulma didn't deserve that. She had endured the worst of his identity struggles already. His desire to visit Sadal was for closure: to see what could've been for the namesake planet he had once been destined to rule. His people's corruption and Frieza's oppression destroyed Planet Vegeta.

After walking a few miles, he decided to lie down in a secluded area teeming with bluegrass and dandelions. He had to gather his thoughts before seeing Bulma again. Goku, in his plainspoken way, had managed to hack Vegeta's emotional state with ease - and, as usual, it rankled him. He needed the support, but it was one more damn thing that Goku could do well, without any pretension.

He had almost drifted to sleep until a familiar stench assaulted his senses. A tall, well-dressed woman was walking toward him with an expensive cigarette in her hand. Ringlets of smoke wafted around her body-hugging jeans. Her stark white hair and lavender-grey eyes made her even more striking in the twilight.

Vegeta's face betrayed a mix of mischief and revulsion. _Fuck. This is what happens when I let my guard down. Fuck._

"I cannot have a moment of peace," he said, rolling over on his back. "Why are you here?"

Tights took a long drag from her cigarette as she observed Vegeta's appearance. Her brother-in-law was still an asshole, but his motivations had become less mysterious to her over time. No one could argue that his devotion to his family hadn't changed him dramatically. Bulma had long refused to discuss his entire personal history, straining the sisters' relationship, but Tights eventually accepted it to keep the peace. She also wanted to maintain close ties with her niece and nephew.

Still, she would have loved it if her sister had married another human. This much Vegeta knew, but Tights felt this way about _all_ marriages like his. Her opinion didn't trouble him, considering his once brazen prejudice against "lesser" mortals. Insecurity had been the catalyst that drove the behavior, but not anymore. He had nothing to prove now.

"It's a lovely area, Saiyan," Tights said. "Why can't you admit that you _like_ nature? Mother discussed it incessantly. Now that you've knocked up my baby sister again, I'm kind of sad that our parents won't get to see the kid.

Vegeta stood and dusted debris off his pants. "If you continue smoking, you might not live long enough to terrify this child either. That would be a shame."

"Perhaps I won't, Vegeta. We all have our vices."

Stretching her arms, Tights looked like a Siamese cat ready to pounce. Vegeta, on the other hand, resembled a peeved canine. It took tremendous restraint not to bare his teeth at her.

"I can do without your unnecessary goading today," he said. "Go see your sister. I am sure she is awake by now and would be pleased to see you, even if I am not."

"I couldn't give a rat's hairy ass if your royal highness cannot deign to speak," Tights scoffed. "I'm not done with you yet."

Vegeta was floored by her attitude. _Does this harpy have a death wish_? _Perhaps this conduct is genetic in Bulma's family._

"What do you want then, woman?"

Tights' eyebrows twitched. " _Do not_ call me woman, you prick. I don't know why my sister tolerates that from you."

Vegeta stared at her with detachment. He usually reserved the response for rivals who had no chance of winning.

"I do it to infuriate you, and I will continue doing it until you stop provoking me," he said. "Besides, the last time I checked, you _are_ a woman - but then again…"

"I'm going to ignore that," Tights replied. "Bulma sent me to find you, but I wanted to talk first. Now that we're warmed up, let's try to be civil. Just what the hell is going on with you two? And why do you look like an old grizzly bear? I almost didn't recognize you."

"Hmm, let me see." Vegeta scratched his chin and looked around. "What is the question again?"

"I'm serious, Vegeta! I know you and Bulma have had relationship problems lately. She didn't have to tell me."

Vegeta turned his back on her. "Even if we were having problems, why would I tell you?! I suppose I could share more if you were not interrogating Trunks already. You are taking advantage of my son's fondness for you."

Tights cupped her hands to light another cigarette. "And you are deflecting, _brother-in-law_."

"And this discussion is over, _woman_. You are welcome to walk back home… without me."

Vegeta levitated above her head. He hadn't planned to fly, but enough was enough.

The look on Tights' face softened. "You are such an insufferable bastard sometimes. Just hear me out, please. I'm concerned about her. She seems depressed."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "And you think I cannot see it - that I do not _feel_ it? Damn it, Tights. You have not been here, so you have _no right_ to judge me. Bulma is my life - _my life_ \- and I am not the man I once was. You support her in your way, and I will support her in mine. That is all you get from me tonight."

Then he flew off.

###

Bulma was finishing a small plate of pasta when Vegeta entered the kitchen. Knowing that he'd be hungry again, she pushed a heaping tray of roast beef and potatoes across the table to him. He attempted to study her physical condition without being conspicuous. He recalled small changes before they learned of her pregnancy: the hand tremor, the hyperactive bursts of energy, followed by noticeable lows. Dark streaks were more visible in her hair too. He didn't expect her tresses to retain their lavender hue forever, but her indifference surprised him. That said, she looked much better this evening.

"So I heard you let my sister walk alone in the dark."

" _Hn."_ Vegeta leaned back in his chair. "I see. It certainly did not take long for her to tell you. I flew overhead without her knowledge, actually. Her martyrdom is appalling. She could have requested car service, you know."

Bulma took a sip of water and looked at him. "I tried messaging to tell you she was here, but you left your watch. I do appreciate that you left a note."

"Bulma, you sent that woman to the place where we conceived one of our children. I mean, really?"

"What did you two talk about, Vegeta?"

"You know damn well that Tights and I _never_ talk."

"OK, so what did you fight about?"

"Your sister dislikes like me. There. Now can we move on?"

Bulma sighed. "Look, I need you to visit the lab tomorrow afternoon after you train. I'm not working in the morning."

"All right," Vegeta said. "How about sharing more details first?"

"Tights is leaving around 1 p.m. I prefer for her to be gone while we talk. She will return in a few weeks."

Vegeta tried to hide his delight over that news. "I see you are feeling better, although you could eat more."

"I got a boost of energy after sleeping today," Bulma replied. "You left the bathroom a total mess, by the way."

Vegeta smirked at her. "I am heading upstairs now." Before he could turn away, Bulma gripped his arm and rubbed her cheek against it. Her gentle kisses on his hand made him truly feel wanted again - loved. Her scent was different, too. His breathing slowed as the fragrance grew stronger. It intoxicated him.

Her mouth opened partly when his right hand reached for her breasts, which she moved down to stroke his growing hardness. He pursed his lips and placed his left hand on her shoulder. Guttural pants emerged from deep within his chest. Bulma did not blink or smile. How far could she take it? She needed to see the primal in his eyes again: the pain, the fury, the desire. Whatever happened between them the following day, she wanted the image of his face and the sound of his voice from that night burned into her memory.

" _Tell me how it feels_ , _Vegeta_. Let me hear your voice. I know how the scars on your hands make me feel when you touch me. How do they feel on you?"

His eyes slowly closed and opened. "I… I… not yet."

Bulma forced his hand to rub harder, while she slipped her other hand down the back of his pants. "Yes, darling. Yes. It's OK. That's right."

He tried not to moan when he finally pulled her up into his arms to kiss her. As he carried her upstairs, she sank her teeth into his shoulder - hard. He gasped.

" _God damn it, Bulma_."

"Shut up. You know that didn't hurt."

A narrow smile inched across Vegeta's face. "We can do much more than biting after we have the baby. Be patient."


	6. Revelation

**How to describe this: "It's complicated." Giant thanks for the thoughtful reviews to push me along. I won't guarantee back-to-back submissions - my daytime activities get in the way sometimes - but I will do my best to make each one interesting.**

* * *

Vegeta had been sleeping soundly that morning - the first time he had in months - when he felt pressure on his chest and thighs. Bulma had climbed on top of him, blindfolded, with four unlit candles in her hand. The act was a tempting invitation to continue from where they left off the night before. Yet, uncharacteristically, he felt reluctant. Given his fondness for kinky sex, the hesitance baffled him. His wife's libido had returned with a vengeance, despite what had been her lingering tiredness before they slept together. Admittedly, he took full advantage of the pleasurable reunion that she encouraged, but now he had mixed feelings about it.

"Hey, Bulma, I have students today," he said. "I have to get some training in before that, and I still need to wake up. Normally I would be down for more playtime, but your energy feels off from last night too - and you are busy as well."

Ignoring his comments, Bulma began to kiss his neck again, giving him a candle to light, presumably for dripping hot wax on her. "But I want more. I'm not some delicate flower here, and the kids aren't around. You're treating me like a glass doll."

"I never said that you were," Vegeta said, rising up on his elbows. "I certainly did not treat you like that last night, which was phenomenal, but still…"

Bulma threw the candles at him and stormed off. "Fine then!"

Confused, Vegeta tossed the bed sheets and grabbed her arm as she entered their bathroom. "What is this about? That reaction just came out of nowhere."

"Let go of me, Vegeta," she said, shaking off his grip. "Just go do your fucking training - all right?"

Vegeta pounded his fist on the wall. Over time, these arguments had forced him to wrestle with difficult memories from years past. Bulma had once been in his position. He tried to remember that before losing his temper altogether.

"Do you have _any idea_ how hard it is to put myself out here with you, repeatedly, to have this happen? What do you want from me?"

"Just go," Bulma said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Not good enough! _Not good_ _enough_. Quarreling has always been the norm for us, Bulma. _This, right here,_ _is not_."

Vegeta shut his eyes to calm himself. The anger he felt came from fear. _Bulma has lived through my nightmares and cried in the darkness with me. The man she first met did not deserve her love, but she gave it anyway. I know her. I know my wife._

"I cannot help until we figure out what you are struggling with," he said. "Yes, I said 'we,' because I am not walking this tightrope with you anymore. I may think everyone else around me is an idiot, but you and I are partners."

Bulma wanted to feel reassured by Vegeta's "marriage is for better or worse" speech. He certainly talked a good game. She had once been sure that the experiment wouldn't hurt her, providing more leverage for his acceptance. Good signs were there, though - but then the pregnancy happened. The situation was preventable, and she should've planned better.

Vegeta, for all of his intelligence and tactical knowledge, was being emotionally manipulated. Whether Bulma realized how much damage her actions would cause was unclear.

"Whatever we discuss at the lab later better damn well include patience on your end, because I am not leaving until everything is on the table," he said. "I need you to hear me on this, Bulma."

Bulma's mind raced as objects took on different shapes. _I wish he would be quiet. Must he always have the last word?_ His voice sounded louder, making her head hurt. An oncoming tremor in her hand forced her to grab a shower rail, which she managed to hide from Vegeta. She had to shrug it off.

Sensing her discomfort, Vegeta stepped forward. "Something is wrong."

"I'm feeling a bit queasy. I guess you're right that we overdid it last night," she said. "I'm OK. Again, I apologize for yelling at you. Maybe it's just hormonal."

"I do not like this at all." Vegeta placed his palm on her forehead. "When do you see the doctor? You feel warmer than normal, and your eyes are moving around unsteadily. They also look darker. I did not see that yesterday."

"I said I am fine." Bulma removed his hand from her face. "I promise I'll take it easy this morning. Just come meet me this afternoon after Tights leaves, as we discussed."

"As much as I may regret saying this, perhaps your black widow of a sister should remain here another day or two," Vegeta said through gritted teeth. "I will stay out her way as long as she avoids me."

Rubbing her stomach, Bulma faced the bathroom mirror. "Not a chance. I can't take the stress of you two together - and neither can you. Now if you're fast, you can leave before she arrives for breakfast."

"I will see you later," Vegeta said as he grabbed his gym bag. "I trust Tights to watch over you. Do not tell her I said that, since we will never hear the end of it."

Looking at her eyes in the mirror, Bulma giggled so hysterically after her husband left that she had to clutch the shower rail again. It was hard to stop, and none of it made any sense.

Tights had been rummaging through cupboards in the kitchen like a hungry wolf until she felt someone standing behind her. She almost choked on a piece of bread hanging from her mouth. Bulma, still dressed in a bathrobe, rolled her eyes.

"You scared the crap out me, Bulma! You could've announced yourself. Are you hungry? I assume Vegeta is off beating up someone today."

Bulma leaned heavily on the kitchen table. She had been trying to control her thoughts, but her sister's relentless nitpicking was getting in the way.

"Will you just stop, Tights? It's too early for this. Vegeta left to give us some time together."

"Yeah, right," Tights replied, handing her a cup of coffee. "Why, how thoughtful of your sweet prince. Did you two have another argument? You look out of it."

Bulma slammed her cup down. "Leave it alone, or you can get out now. _You got me_?"

Feeling guilty, Tights hugged her sister. "I'm done now, and I apologize for upsetting you, although I don't appreciate the threat. Look, why don't you stay with me for a week or two at the beach house? I can hang out on Earth a little longer. I promise I won't mention Vegeta either. It appears this pregnancy is giving you the blues. You look a little flushed, too."

"I can't anytime soon," Bulma said. "I need to catch up on work. My rest time has been long enough."  
 _  
_"Work, huh?" Tights placed her hands on hips. "Sometimes you're just like father. When are you having more prenatal tests?"

"You and I are both like our father. Anyway, I already had the first set of tests on my own. We're having a boy."

"Oh! You had the ultrasound done without Vegeta? When will you tell him? What about other tests?"

"I'm telling him later today - and you know genetic tests are complicated and take more time. Someone I trust is reviewing our data on the Saiyans, including our kids, to make sure there are no defects."

Tights reached across the table for Bulma's hand. "You know what I do for a living, little sister. I can't understand why I can't perform the tests. I'm one of the best geneticists in this part of the world. I've worked with multiple life forms from other planets. Plus, I know the Saiyan data well. Why else would father give it to me too?"

"I know, but you would become too involved," Bulma said. "That's just who you are. I can't say who this person is because you would take over immediately. When they're done, I will deliver the results to you and we can go from there."

Tights found the secrecy bizarre. She wasn't being _that_ pushy about supporting her sister. Bulma's lack of passion for having a baby wasn't reassuring either.

"Well, as long as this mysterious person doesn't go blabbing everywhere, Bulma. The results probably won't be much different from your first two kids anyway. You see how healthy they are, so that probably won't change. It certainly helps that their father is built like a thoroughbred."

"Maybe so, Tights. But my body is older now. That makes a difference."

"True."

###

Bulma was hearing strange sounds again. The stress of her sister's short visit made them worse. Her head was throbbing terribly, too. She almost changed her mind about visiting the lab but knew that would be foolish. She activated her screen to monitor Vegeta's descent to the lab. He was on time as usual. He was always prompt with her - angry or not.

It startled Vegeta a bit to see images of him and his Saiyan counterparts onscreen after he arrived. They all looked younger and somewhat thinner. Bulma stood against the wall, examining his reaction.

"Why are our images displayed?" he said. "I haven't seen anything like this since we were examined years ago."

Bulma began to laugh. "I would've never thought that you could be vain like this."

"You are acting oddly, Bulma." Vegeta frowned. "What are these images for?"

"What would you say if I could give you back your tail?"

Vegeta faced her. The excitement in his eyes betrayed his otherwise reserved appearance. "Permanently?"

 _Fabulous. I've got his attention._ "Yes, darling."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "It all depends on what you are planning to do."

Bulma almost broke the pencil in her hand. He was _so good_ at verbal Karate. "When are you not suspicious?"

"It has served me well," he replied. "Now get to the point, Bulma."

"Vegeta, as you know, I have been working on a long-term project," she continued. "I know we've been under a lot stress lately, but I believe the results are a breakthrough that will bring us closer."

Vegeta felt his stomach churn. He wasn't thrilled. "Closer how? Has this project been worth our arguments, your mood swings, and sacrificing your health? What about the effect on our children? We are near the breaking point here."

"Just hear me out," Bulma continued. "I have used gene therapy to modify my cell structure to become full-blooded Saiyan. My work is drawn from father's data on you and Goku. I also used Dr. Gero's data on you before he created Cell to terrorize Earth."

Vegeta's grabbed the lab table to steady himself. This had to be a nightmare.

" _You did what?!_ _And you waited this long to tell me?!_ This is insane. Who convinced you to go through with this?"

"Look, no one forced me to do anything," Bulma said. "This was my choice. As I said, I wanted us to be closer, in order to experience the same things you feel. I see the way you treat our children. They share something with you that I never will."

" _Oh really_? Listen to yourself, Bulma. This is your choice alone? You have experimented on your body, possibly endangering your life. You did not give your husband or children a voice in this decision. Your selfishness is astounding."

Bulma noticed a bitter taste in her mouth. She was becoming more detached. The weird shapes she saw before had returned.

"Vegeta, please, calm down."

"Woman, it is taking all of my will not to destroy this room! _Who is helping you_? You are not a geneticist by specialty."

Bulma moved to a darker side of the lab. She needed some water. "Would you just stop yelling at me? Why can't you believe that I did it for our relationship?"

" _Because that is a lie_ ," Vegeta replied. "You may have convinced yourself that is your true motivation, but I do not buy it."

 _So I'm a liar in his eyes now?_ "Well, what about the chance for this project to restore your tail, Vegeta? And don't tell me you've never considered what it would be like to have a Saiyan woman - someone on your own level."

Vegeta stared her down. "Stop it. The reality is if I had stayed on my planet, I probably _would not_ have partnered with anyone - and you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Fine," Bulma said softly. "Since _you think_ you know so much about my motivations, by all means, please correct me."

"This is about power, Bulma. That you were willing to go through this makes it clear. _I have been where you are_. How could I not recognize it? I never thought you could be so insecure."

Vegeta shut the screen off. He couldn't stand seeing his image anymore.

"What you did has nothing to do with me," he said. "Not one damn thing. You tried to see how far you could take this because you are driven. I believe that you want to 'experience' my feelings, but you see negative consequences happening already. You humans call that 'Murphy's law,' right? You hoped I would readily accept because of my love for you, but guilt has eaten away at your spirit."

Bulma nervously rubbed her stomach. "That's unfair. Your insecurity led you to commit some terrible acts, for which I forgave you, along with many others. I am not insecure."

Vegeta snapped out of his fury as he observed her movements. "Oh my god." His heart sank. "What about your pregnancy? You were still experimenting before we found out, am I right?"

"I… I don't know how it's affected the fetus yet." Bulma's eyes glazed with tears. "We need more time before I can run tests to identify genetic abnormalities, if any."

"So what do you know now?"

"It's a boy."

Vegeta bent over. He didn't know how much longer he could speak logically. "And who will perform those tests?"

"I have a general obstetrician, which you know," Bulma said. "Once we have the standard genetic test results from the fetus, I'll compare them against my body's changes, in addition to your data."

Vegeta recalled what he told his wife earlier that day: He couldn't help unless they identified the problem together. It pained him that she didn't fully recognize or acknowledge the crisis they were in. He had to get ahold of himself.

"You still have not answered my question, Bulma. Who helped you with this gene therapy?"

"I can't tell you that right now."

"What do you mean you can't tell me?" he said quietly. "Am I not entitled to know?"

Bulma's head was spinning. "Stop it, Vegeta! I can't… I…"

She cried out and lost consciousness. Vegeta, visibly stunned, managed to catch her within seconds as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body was stiff at first, but then her limbs shook uncontrollably. Vegeta then ripped off her lab coat to cushion her head. As the convulsions decreased, he turned her sideways to help her breathe.

Then her skin color and eye color changed - completely.

"Alpha Polaris, engage!"

"Yes, Prince Vegeta?" A computer-generated image of a woman appeared behind him. "You sound upset. Why is Dr. Brief on the floor?" **  
**  
"She is having a seizure," he said. " _Sound the alarm and_ _get Ron here now_." Bulma wasn't responding.

"The medical alarm is activated. Dr. Johnston has been paged and will be here quickly. How else can I help, sir?"

"Alpha, tell my son to meet us at the hospital and wait in the private lounge until I get him. He should ask Hercule to watch my daughter tonight and keep quiet until I tell her." _What has she done?_ _I pushed her too hard. I caused this. I caused this._

"Yes, sir. Dr. Brief's transport is ready for departure, too."

Trunks ran to the sequestered emergency unit as soon as he sensed his father's presence at the hospital.

"What's wrong with mom? Is it something about the baby?"

"Son, I gave you instructions to stay in the lounge."

"Are you kidding me, papa? No way did I plan to stay there! If you were in my shoes, don't tell me you would have either."

Vegeta gestured for Trunks to sit down. "Bulma had what the doctor calls a grand mal seizure at the lab. She had another episode soon after we arrived. If they cannot stabilize her, we may lose… may lose…"

"It's OK," Trunks said softly. "I get it. Can I see her?"

"Not yet - only me for now - but we need to get your aunt Tights here. She has the knowledge to help the attending doctors with your mother and the fetus. Did you talk before she left?"

"She was shopping before leaving for the space station. She may be gone already. I'll see if I can reach her. She usually loses access for a time once she hits hyperspace."

"Find Kararot to help. He travels fastest. I have to go back in now."

Trunks saw right through Vegeta's cool facade. His father was deeply shaken. Maybe others had seen the Prince like this, but he never had - not once - until that moment. It scared him. He was close to taking flight himself to find his aunt until a familiar face appeared on his watch.

"Goten! Thank goodness! Do you know where your father is?"

"Yeah, dude. He's fishing nearby. What's happening? You sound troubled."

Trunks paced the hallway. Noise in the hospital typically considered routine increased his anxiety.

"Mom is very sick. Please ask Goku to teleport aunt Tights from the launch station, if she's there, or board her ship before she reaches hyperspace. We need them at the hospital now."

"You got it," Goten said. "I'll try finding my brother too. He hasn't responded to my calls. I hope Bulma will be OK. Are you still there, Trunks?"

Trunks swallowed to keep his voice from choking. "Yeah, I'm here. Thanks, man."

###

Tights' shoes snapped like firecrackers as she sprinted to the lounge near Bulma's room. Her anger flared once she spotted Vegeta. He must have upset her sister in some way. Bulma seemed fine before she left her.

The battle was on before Trunks and Goku could stop them.

"What happened?! What did you do, Vegeta?"

Vegeta backed her against a wall. " _What did I do?!_ Unbelievable! You are wasting time, you vicious harridan. Get in there and see your sister before I do something I might regret… or not."

Goku thrust his arms between them. "Stop this, both of you. You won't help her by taking your shared hatefulness in there. One of Bulma's private doctors briefed Tights after we arrived."

Tights ran into the room and grabbed a lab coat, while Vegeta walked in the opposite direction, stone-faced, with his son. Meanwhile, Goku sat and breathed a sigh of relief.

"We will return," Vegeta said from the hallway. "You just saved my sister-in-law's life, Kakarot. Remind her to thank you."

Goku bowed his head and smiled. "She's a lucky woman, Vegeta, but I know you could never hurt her. Anyway, I will stay with all of you until we know more."

Tights covered her mouth in shock after seeing Bulma's appearance. It was like night and day, and no one there could explain it. The time for surprise was over, though. Work had to be done. She demanded the highest level of care for the medical treatment, while she thought about the long-term effects. Her hair was strewn everywhere when she re-entered the lounge later. Vegeta stared at the wall. Goku and Trunks slept nearby.

He didn't move as Tights approached him from behind. _She has seen everything now._

"We should take a walk while my son sleeps," he said.

Rubbing his eyes, Goku followed behind them. "May I come with you?". Tights nodded and led them down the hallway.

"Bulma is in a medical-induced coma to halt the seizures and reduce brain swelling," she said. "The doctors will keep her on medication to maintain her blood pressure while she recovers."

Goku looked over at Vegeta. "And what about…"

"The fetus seems to be fine," she continued, "but, given Bulma's condition, I'm taking over all genetic tests to identify potential defects. That includes examining Bulma's physiology separately from the prenatal analyses, Goku."

Vegeta stared at her blankly. He knew what was coming next.

"Do you have any idea what caused this, Vegeta?"

"Bulma experimented on herself, Tights. That is the cause. I did not know until today. Her seizure began when we were arguing."

Goku stepped back in astonishment. "Did I hear that correctly? Experimented how? Why?"

"Kakarot, she was trying to change her genetic structure to become Saiyan." Vegeta faced Tights, giving her an understanding look. "My sister-in-law and I have seen the effects. That is why I have not let Trunks visit with her yet."

Tears streamed down Tights' face. For the first time she felt real pity for Vegeta. His matter-of-fact explanation caused it. He clearly didn't want any of this.

"I just don't understand," she said as Vegeta turned to leave.

He stared at the floor. "Neither do I."

Tights and Goku didn't try to stop him. They had another problem to solve.

Trunks marched angrily toward them. "Why didn't any of you wake me? That's not right, and I'm tired of waiting to see mom. Papa, where are you going?"

"Do not follow me, son."

"But why?"

Goku pulled Trunks aside. "No, let him leave. He is in pain. That's not good for anyone around him."

"He's in pain? _This isn't about him_. I'm frightened too, but we have to be there for mom. What the hell is going on?"

"That's enough, Trunks," Tights said. "Your father needs space right now, but he will return. He would've stayed by your side if we weren't here to care for you. Trust us."

"What's happened to mom? Is she going to be OK?"

Tights gently touched the back of his head. "Well, honey, let's talk privately in the lounge. It's getting late, but I'll get food brought up for us anyway. We have a lot to discuss, and some of it might disturb you, unfortunately."

Tights glanced back at Goku. He spoke with her mentally to avoid making Trunks more anxious.

 _"You don't have to say anything else. I'll wait a little while before finding him."_


	7. A Terrible Beauty

Goku stopped about a few miles short of Vegeta's location near a grass-lined butte. They were far enough away from West City to fight, which he surely hoped they wouldn't. He wanted to act decisively and deliberately and regulate his emotions, but this was uncharted territory, even for him. He couldn't fathom his wife making a decision like Bulma did without consulting him. Yet, throughout their marriage, Chi-Chi was sometimes the last one to know about choices he made that would ultimately affect their family's well-being. Goku loved them deeply, but Vegeta's investment in his family was far more intimate. Goku had been surrounded by love and friends from a young age, perhaps taking his good fortune for granted occasionally. For Vegeta, who had once lost everything, family was his foundation.

 _Vegeta isn't even trying to hide his energy from me. It doesn't feel like he's near his breaking point, which is good. I just need figure out what he's planning next._

Both Goku and Tights knew their time was limited. Although they hoped otherwise, they couldn't rule out Vegeta severely harming whoever helped Bulma if her condition couldn't be reversed. Even if she recovered, he might mutilate the person anyway. Her wishes weren't a consideration for her husband right then. She was close to death, and according to Vegeta's thinking, had temporarily forfeited the right to govern his response to it.

Goku, who had been walking, didn't turn around at first when Vegeta landed behind him.

"I never thought the mighty Kakarot would fear my reaction enough to hang back several miles before confronting me. I suppose I should take that as a compliment."

Goku nervously tugged on his orange karategi, fearing that he would say the wrong thing. "Call me an idiot all you want, but yeah, I think I have a right to wonder if you're going to lose your cool. I'm not excited about being a punching stand for you tonight, but I'm here. Neither of us have eaten either."

"You are right," Vegeta replied wearily, "and that is what you should do. Go eat or get some sleep. You have done a lot. I will be fine."

Goku ran his fingers through his hair. "You know I can't leave. Bulma… looked after me when I was a kid. I should be here for you both."

Vegeta shook his head. He didn't hide himself from Goku because he knew the man would go crazy wondering if the planet was in danger. He didn't want him to feel obligated to fix the situation, either.

"Can you try not being the hero for once in your life? I am out here thinking because my kids do not need to see me this way. Is that what you need to hear from me?"

Everything about the prince seemed to be stripped raw: no battle clothing, no raised chest, and no defiant gleam in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to be "just papa" and "just Bulma's husband." He couldn't break down expressing what he was willing to give up for his wife: his power, his life, his mind. Goku should know that already.

"When are you going back to the hospital, Vegeta?"

"I want to see Bulla." He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Then I will return there. I just need to see my little girl… our baby."

"I understand. I'm sorry." Goku instinctively approached to comfort him - to do something simple, like patting him on the back - but Vegeta always retreated from these gestures. The rejections never offended him. One day the prince would accept them, he believed.

Vegeta walked past him with his arms crossed. "No, you don't understand, Kakarot, but I will give you a pass for saying it."

Goku was now convinced that he couldn't leave his friend all alone. He hadn't sensed this kind of devastation in the prince since their younger days, before and after the man's life changed. All he could do was sit quietly while Vegeta gazed at the horizon. The warm breeze encircling them muffled all other sounds of the night. Even the sky seemed to have fewer stars.

Vegeta clasped his hands, walking farther away. "Maybe I could have stopped her had I paid closer attention to the signs. All of this is my fault - my fault!"

Bewildered, Goku looked up. "What are you talking about?"

Vegeta conjured tiny spheres of energy in his hands. They were a refined, terrible beauty of power that could inspire nobility or wickedness from those wielding it: yin and yang. He felt no pleasure from looking at them.

"My wife is more like us than you think, Kakarot - especially me."

"I don't understand."

"The woman you grew up with had a caring nature, and still does, but there is... another side to her character, one that I recognized early. You and your friends are blind to it. You love her, but I fell in love with the whole person."

Goku suddenly felt offended and angry. He had shared adventures and his innermost feelings with Bulma too. Hearing Vegeta dismiss those experiences hurt. He felt bad for thinking it, but Goku really wanted to say Vegeta wouldn't be _alive_ and _together_ with Bulma had it not been for him - although he consciously knew that the circumstances were more complicated.

"With all due respect, I believe I know Bulma well. I know you're upset, but…"

Vegeta fired blasts past both sides of Goku's body, disintegrating rock pillars miles behind him. " _Do you really, Son Goku?!_ Perhaps I might know a little more than you about the woman who bore my children! I know that might be hard _for you_ to accept."

Goku frowned. "Damn it, you know I didn't mean it that way. _I am not the enemy_. I shouldn't even have to say that."

Vegeta continued walking, this time in a circle. "My… mistake is I did not help Bulma wrestle with the naked ambition she has always possessed, just like I was forced to after settling on Earth. We Saiyans are strengthened by the thrill of the fight and push ourselves to our limits. As we both know, if unchecked, our power can drive us to extreme arrogance."

"I'm still confused, Vegeta."

"Think about when Bulma and I first met, Kakarot. After we returned from Namek, she channeled much of her ambition into providing and enhancing all of my training tools. She did not actively realize it, but I sensed her efforts weren't solely about protecting everyone on Earth from the androids. That's what drew us to each other. _She wanted to see how much I could achieve as much_ _as I wanted it_. I was desperate, which fueled her resolve. My successes fed her ego in spite of our bitter arguments and separations, especially after I ascended to Super Saiyan."

Goku closed his eyes, realizing how naïve he'd been. "So you're saying this is about power."

Seeing the man's response, Vegeta restrained his impulse to criticize him. "Once you taste that kind of power over others it is difficult not to crave more, especially if you are intelligent. Bulma's scientific knowledge is largely unmatched on Earth. Why would she not continue testing the boundaries?"

"I hear what you're saying, but why would she wait so long to do something this dramatic? It doesn't make sense."

Vegeta was both surprised and annoyed by the extent of Goku's denial - and, earlier, his own denial.

" _Hn._ It does not make sense _to you_ because your ambition has constantly been perceived as being selfless and for the good of others. We both know damn well that hasn't always been true. When we first battled and I was badly injured, you told Krillin to let me leave Earth when he could have easily killed me - all because you wanted to fight me again."

Goku said nothing. The truth in that statement touched a deeper nerve than their prior argument about Bulma.

Vegeta waved a hand in front of his face. " _What is the matter, Kakarot_? I was a lethal threat to _everyone_ on this planet, yet you could not help yourself because of your arrogance. Surprisingly, our Namekian friend Piccolo and _your wife_ seemed to be the only ones who recognized the truth about you then."

"You've made your point," Goku said quietly.

"If you want to support me, then you must first accept what you don't want to acknowledge about Bulma's motivations. And the truth is I chose to look away too. I believed we were finally content within our partnership and could keep our egos in check. I need to get through this without losing my mind, because I do not know what will happen to our family when she wakes up - if she wakes up. I love her. If we did not have our children, I just don't know…."

"No one doubts your love for Bulma - or her love for you, Vegeta." He tried to sound reassuring. "We won't turn our backs on her either."

Vegeta dropped to the ground, covering his face. "Whether she _loves_ me is beside the point, Kakarot! I _loved_ Bulma and Trunks when I allowed that wizard Babadi to control my mind, just so my power would match yours. Everyone wanted to believe that my personality had changed completely until that happened. My one foolish, egotistic act endangered countless lives because I craved power that I believed I needed. Why would my wife do this, you ask? I say why not? I feel like I am seeing the man I once was through her."

"You must stop this, Vegeta. Don't do this to yourself. Please."

Vegeta was diving into the recesses of his mind, searching for the remedy to his living hell. If Bulma lived, what would her powers yield? He had spent countless hours training their children to understand their gifts, minds, and impulses. Was becoming Saiyan just a means to an end for her?

He looked up at Goku.

"Her mental state is my greatest concern. Bulma says she did this for our relationship. I do not know how to explain this to our children."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"No, I will - not you, not their aunt or anyone else." Vegeta covered his face again and sighed. "I just need to get my mind straight."

Goku nodded. "Understood, but maybe you should see about Trunks again before doing anything else. He was very upset after you left."

"Yes, and I cannot sense him. We should go."

Goku touched Vegeta's shoulder to teleport back to the hospital. They found Tights crying, with her head and arms on the table, when they re-entered the family's sitting room. Neither man could feel a sign of Trunks anywhere. There was no reason why the elder Saiyans shouldn't have unless Trunks was deliberately suppressing his ki.

Vegeta grasped Tights' shoulder firmly until she took his hand. He looked up briefly to toughen himself until her sobbing stopped.

"Tights, I know this is hard, but remember why we are here. Where is my son?"

She wiped her face. "I don't know where Trunks is. He didn't take the news well, and then he stopped responding to me altogether. Bulma is stable for now. Are you going to see her?"

Vegeta felt dazed recalling his terror from witnessing Bulma's seizure and physical transformation. "I...will see her when I return," he stammered. "I need to find Trunks first."

He had to follow his own advice. It would've been unfair to chastise Tights for not fighting harder to keep his son there. Trunks was close enough to adulthood to be even more stubborn, just like his parents.

"Tights, you should get some sleep," Goku said. "It looks like you've done all you can for now."

Vegeta walked to the other side of the room while she and Goku hugged each other. This time she wiped tears from Goku's eyes.

"Bulma knows you love her, Son Goku. She knows it. Like Vegeta said, remember why we're here. I'll be sleeping in the room connected hers if you need me. Good night, guys."

Vegeta sat down and rubbed his temples. The wallpaper colors seemed to be swirling in front of him. "I am so tired."

"Trunks is at home now, Vegeta."

"I am aware. Knowing my son, I would have expected him to brood longer - and definitely not at home. He usually signals just enough know to let me know he's okay. Something is not right. First he hides his whereabouts from us, and now?"

"As your sister-in-law said, he's in shock," Goku replied. "Maybe he's pulled himself together enough to see you."

"With his mother being in such bad shape, maybe he also feels compelled to do something - to take matters into his own hands." A grim look crossed Vegeta's face. "Get me home now. You and I will only talk through telepathy when we arrive, understand?"

Goku motioned for him to approach. "Whatever you need."

The exterior of the main house looked normal when they arrived. Vegeta and Goku knew Trunks had left, but they looked around anyway for any clues or hints of danger.

Nothing.

 _"He must be down in the lab, Kakarot."_

 _"Do you want me go there with you?"_

At first Vegeta considered saying yes - strongly. He blamed the reaction on frayed nerves. He just needed time alone with Trunks so they could both regain stability.

 _"You are welcome to stay in the house, but I should do this by myself. We are under no threat. He will be OK. I trust my son."_

After Goku left the room, Vegeta pulled out his gloves and suited up. Once he reached the section where the main lab was located, he activated the flood lights along the perimeter and entered as he normally would. He didn't want to bother with any other details, but beforehand he also scanned the remaining sections of underground compound by video. He knew where Trunks would be, regardless, even though he couldn't see him. He empathized with his son - he really did - but his fatherly patience was wearing thin. He preferred having Trunks work out his emotions up front, rather than undertake responsibilities that weren't his to shoulder. Now that their family's world had been turned upside down, the last thing Vegeta wanted was to rein in anyone else's misguided efforts to help Bulma. His children were bound to be resentful after the shock wore off. He especially dreaded his daughter asking him "Does mommy hate the human part of me too?"

 _"Son, why are you here, and why are you cloaked invisibly? I can sense exactly where you are standing."_

" _And why are you speaking to me telepathically, papa?"_

Vegeta took a deep breath to calm himself. _"Look, we are both upset and exhausted. I know you are down here for a reason. Whatever stupid thing you are thinking about doing, forget about it now. I am only going to say this once."_

* * *

 **Notes: I know this took a long, long time to work my way back to, so here's my sincerest thanks to all followers for being patient. I was in a rut with this story, but know that your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated. Separately, to clear up this issue, Trunks is portrayed slightly younger than he would be in canon - but not too much. Hit me up with your thoughts and questions!**


	8. All It Takes Is One

Trunks came ready to fight. This wouldn't be a battle of brawn – not unless it had to be – but, rather, one of wits and strategic bluffing. The prince may have been reeling from shock, but he was the reigning virtuoso of making every moment count to crush his opponents. His son wouldn't get special treatment.

 _"Now tell me,"_ Vegeta said as his body disappeared from view, _"just what are you looking for?"_

His father's choice to cloak himself meant one of two things: Either Vegeta suspected that the compound had been breached by another person, or he was seriously preparing to "contain" him physically. The latter idea was crazy, Trunks thought, considering the significant damage a battle between them could do within this part of the lab.

"Paozu."

Triggered by Vegeta's utterance, a hazy green shadow covered the lab's interior. Trunks' eyes widened. _He just activated the equipment shield! Is he serious?!_

 _"_ _Dude, if you're trying to intimidate me, it's not working. It's not like I can't shut off the force field myself."_

Neither of them moved from their respective positions.

" _Here's my first guess,"_ Vegeta continued. _"You were trying to discover who else might have access here. This person will eventually show themselves once they find out about your mother, but I cannot imagine whoever it is being stupid enough to come here now. Besides, I highly doubt Bulma provided full admission to the compound. Most of the experimentation must have happened somewhere else."_

 _"_ _What makes you think the person will show up at all?"_

" _Trust me, Trunks, they will want to know what happened… and, perhaps, do something about it. They took a tremendous risk helping your mother. Now then, my second guess is you have the Dragon Balls. Lying to me would be unwise, so hand them over._ "

"I can't, papa," he said, ending their telepathic connection.

"You can't?" Vegeta's voice shifted to a low growl. "The hell you won't."

Sighing, Trunks restored his visibility and faced him. "You know, I really hoped that I could make it past graduate school without you or mom going off the rails again."

"Going off the rails?" Vegeta deactivated his cloaking mechanism. He looked more peeved than angry, although this intervention was taking longer than he preferred. "Just what the hell does that mean? You're bringing up old resentments now? I thought...we were long past all of that part of our history."

"Of course you and I are past _that_ , but it doesn't erase the fact that you and mom still struggle with being self-centered. Being that way doesn't disappear overnight."

Vegeta's dark eyes locked on his son's face. "Trunks, I really _do not_ need this from you. Not today."

"Well you need to hear this, papa – out loud. _You owe me_."

"I owe you?"

"You're damn right you do. I love and admire you greatly, but it just is."

" _Tch,_ " Vegeta muttered, waving his hand in the air. "Well, please _forgive us_ for our multiple sins against you as of late. I had no idea that being one of the wealthiest people on Earth, having the best education, and being taught the strongest fighting skills known to mortals were such burdens these days."

" _Stop it_ ," Trunks said quietly. _"_ I'm right. I never said either of you thought Bulla and I were less important to you, especially now, but you both have extreme personalities. But this time mom has taken it too far. I mean, she almost died."

Drawing in a breath, Vegeta closed his eyes. "Please don't hate her for this. It's not her fault. It's mine."

"You know what? I _really don't care_ whose fault it is. Bulla is the one I'm most worried about. She's just a little girl. She's only seen you happy together until now. She doesn't know..."

Vegeta shook his head to quiet him. He had to take control of the situation differently, like his wife normally would.

"Come here, son."

"Are you crazy?" Feeling his chest tighten, Trunks backed away. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

"One foolish enough to believe that the Dragon Balls would help this time," Vegeta said calmly. "They won't. Now come here. I need this… as much as you do."

Trunks' head and shoulders dropped as his father embraced him. Vegeta tightened his grip until he finally broke down. His heart ached hearing his son weep so bitterly, but it needed to happen.

"You are right about your mom and me. You have always been wise, Trunks. I promise that I will do everything I can to make your sister feel safe."

"I'm sorry, papa," he said, covering his face. "I shouldn't have lost it like that in front of you."

Vegeta smirked at him. "Let me tell you a secret. This is perhaps the only time in my life that I would not have thoroughly enjoyed knocking you unconscious to prove that I am still smarter and stronger than you."

Finally hearing his father's resonant laugh felt reassuring. Trunks handed him a small metal box containing the seven capsulized Dragon Balls.

"Why did you hesitate?" Vegeta said, inspecting the contents. "You certainly could have tried using them before I got here. You spent all of this time hiding yourself, and then…"

Trunks shrugged. "I don't know. I came here convinced that using them would help mom and stop you from doing something you might be sorry for later. I guess I didn't want to ask for the wrong thing and make the situation worse."

"And using them only for your mother would be dishonorable. Believe me, I want to, but we just cannot to that."

Vegeta recalled the promise he, Bulma, Goku, and the other fighters made to Earth's guardian, Dende, not to use the Dragon Balls again unless the planet or universe were faced with urgent danger. They had long stopped using them for lesser requests, because the negative energy the mystical orbs absorbed to balance each wish risked leaving them useless for years. They also had to be hidden since Earth had already endured enough hardships from them getting into the wrong hands.

His eyes felt heavier as he yawned. "Look, son, I want you to get some rest. We've been up all night."

"But what about you?"

"I'll manage," he said, turning toward the exit. "I should get your sister now."

"No, papa, let her sleep. It's almost sunrise anyway. I'll get her and explain what happened later. You really should be with mom."

While he waited, Goku wondered why it had taken so long to find Gohan. He had tried giving his son the emotional space he asked for recently, but it was hard. Gohan had become so cold and withdrawn since Videl died. His father craved the closeness they once shared, much like what Vegeta had with Trunks now. They looked much calmer when they returned to the house, which he hoped would last for a while.

Vegeta shook his forearm. "Let's go, Kakarot."

"Gohan is at the hospital with her," he said, trying to be more upbeat. "Maybe there's positive news."

"Maybe so," Vegeta replied irritably, "but we won't know if _you_ keep talking, will we?"

After they left, Trunks laid across his bed thinking about how easily he had fooled his father. He got exactly what he wanted, but he took no comfort witnessing how much Vegeta's awareness was off base. He hadn't come for the Dragon Balls at all.

He was relieved at how quickly Tights agreed to lie before he left the hospital that night. Asking was more of a test, really, to determine her willingness to lie for him in the future. She weighed the benefits against the risks of leaving her nephew largely to his own devices and decided to take a leap of faith that whatever he had in mind might help while she focused on immediate concerns. Fortunately, Goku and Vegeta had been preoccupied long enough for Trunks to consider his options.

He removed a capsule stored inside of his watch, twirling it through his fingers.

"Hope one."

* * *

 _This world's time has passed, Cress. It needs new leadership that only the Saiyan race can provide. Humans here have relied on our families for too long to carry their burdens and defend their lives. It is time for them all to live up to their potential - to rid themselves of fear and weakness. Vegeta needs your help. You chose each other as mates for a reason. I have come to love you as he does, but he is my king, and you are his queen. All of our children will inherit the empire that they're owed for our service to Earth, and Saiyans will reign as the most powerful beings in this universe._

"Hello, Dr. Son."

Gohan nodded a silent greeting at the two nurses checking Bulma's vital signs. Their calmness and professionalism tending to the heiress impressed him. They didn't seem outwardly disturbed by her physical changes. The Brief family had a cadre of loyalists who cared for their medical needs, and cared for them personally because of Bulma's generosity, which meant the likelihood of misinformation spreading publicly about her condition was low - for now. That issue would have to be addressed carefully because, given her position, there would be shock and confusion and suspicion worldwide – and, perhaps, the appearance of formerly hidden enemies looking to exploit the situation.

The advantage for Bulma was her long-time status as "one of the good guys." _That_ would be the key to keeping people agreeable and willing to listen. She sacrificed her welfare for the greater good, and that was the message everyone should hear, he believed. Their loyal support for what would come later depended on them feeling encouraged – from having their doubts soothed. That was a matter of politics. Unfortunately, some well-meaning friends and loved ones, too, would likely threaten the "Great Transformation." They would have to be dealt with intelligently and harshly to discourage other rebels – and maybe with less nobleness than he preferred. He thought about his former mentor, Piccolo, and his own father. He hoped his brother Goten and Goku made the right choice. They had to.

He unfolded a chair next to Bulma's bed to read her medical record. Indeed, she was very weak. The induced coma was necessary, and a few more days had to pass before the doctors could bring her out of it safely. If any brain damage occurred, they would know then - and he had to be there to observe. He drew a vial of blood from her arm to take with him for further testing. He had to figure out how to bypass the negative reaction she had to successfully repeat the results in others.

"This is just a setback," he said, bending over to kiss her cheek. "You took a big risk, but you're still here with all of us – with me. Your bravery will be rewarded. This is your victory, Cress."

She looked more beautiful than ever to him. His deliberate effort to create a full-blooded Saiyan baby during their experimentation provided even more satisfaction. He estimated a shorter gestational period, expecting her to give birth in three months. This all but guaranteed that attempts by anyone else to reverse her rapidly progressing physical changes would be restrained, to avoid harming the child. He knew Tights' careful approach well because he had once studied with her. She wouldn't pursue more aggressive changes to Bulma's treatment routine until she was sure her sister's body could handle them.

He had given thought to Tights possibly suspecting his involvement, but it didn't worry him much. He held the winning cards. When Bulma recovered with her mind whole and strength increased, nothing would stop them.

"Gohan?"

"Yes, dear." He reached for Tights' hand. "Come sit down. I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get here. I was totally preoccupied and working late. I'm sorry."

She smiled and hugged him. "No, I'll stand. It's OK. You're here now, and that's all that matters, especially since you haven't had any sleep. So your father contacted you?"

"Dad knows I'm here. I rushed over from my other work site after seeing multiple messages from my brother and Hercule. I can't believe my eyes, Tights. I just… can't _believe_ it."

"Yes, I know," she said, placing her hand of Bulma's leg. "Vegeta is trying to be strong, but he is beside himself. I'm worried about him as much as I am about my sister."

"Which means you're worried about what he _will do_ next. What can I do to help?"

"Stay here with her for now. The full medical team will come in later. I'll update you completely when I get a little more sleep. I suspect Vegeta or Goku will return shortly. They were trying to find my nephew."

"We are back," Vegeta said from the entrance. "Trunks is fine, and if I hear another person speculate about my response, I swear I will blow a crater straight through a mountain – so just stop it."

Tights stepped aside for him to observe Bulma, while Goku sat next to Gohan. No one spoke as Vegeta stood over her. Watching the ventilator rhythmically pumping air into her chest, he thought about their baby.

"Her… heart will grow larger," he said as he stroked her face. "You know that, right?"

"Yes," Tights replied, glancing at Gohan. "I'll make sure everyone is prepared to…"

"And the tail?"

"Vegeta, please…"

"Tights, the tail _must be_ _attended to_ like any other important body part _,_ or else my wife will be _in pain._ Understand?"

Getting him to listen throughout this process was going to be the mother of all pains in the ass, she thought. "I do, but maybe it's time for you to take a break. You are exhausted."

"Yes, I am!" he said angrily. "But I have stayed away from her long enough. I am not going anywhere, at least until Trunks gets his sister. Thank you for what you have done, but now I want you and Kakarot to leave. Gohan stays here, with me."

Goku stood up before she could say anything else. "That's fine, Vegeta. Come on, honey." He was curious about his request for Gohan to remain there but figured that the reason was good.

Vegeta waited until the door closed before he sat down. "You look like hell."

Chuckling, Gohan looked over at him. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Hn." Inhaling tiredly, he leaned forward to grasp Bulma's hand. "That is true. So, what do you think?"

"About what, Vegeta?"

"Are you not surprised by all of this?"

"Of course I am," Gohan said, keeping a straight face. "Who wouldn't be?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, considering how _foolish_ it was for you to help my wife." Vegeta's eyes blazed with white-hot fury as Gohan met his piercing, murderous gaze. "The only reason I am holding her hand now is to stop myself from crushing your scrawny throat. _All it takes is one hand, boy_."

* * *

 **Notes: I will try to get a longer one out after this. Thank you for the comments on the last chapter! I'm glad you liked it.**


	9. More Than Twenty-Four Hours

Vegeta suspected Gohan was the culprit before he left the hospital the previous night. No one else would have the in-depth knowledge, resources, and – expressly – the motivation to pursue such an effort. Who would know better than a Saiyan what it felt like to be one? Bulma likely realized no one else would have agreed to help, either, considering the ever-present possibility of failure.

Gohan believed he would gain something, the prince thought. Why else would someone with such promise and talent invite disapproval and anger from friends and family – and especially from him? He didn't want to believe that the thoughtful boy he once knew – and fought with - was being untrustworthy on purpose. Had he known about Bulma's pregnancy before they did?

And then there was Goku. As much as Vegeta complained, and as much as the two remained rivals, he considered him more of a brother than his own sibling, Tarble. They stuck by each other. If he severely harmed Gohan – which with him being this angry was probable – a lengthy fight would likely ensue that could harm their relationship beyond repair. Now the prince faced having everything he worked hard to achieve and _atone for_ crumble over an _avoidable_ _situation_ , and that was intolerable. He was the first to say no one owed him anything, but being "good" and self-controlled must count for something. He had lived honorably and taken pride in it. Gohan should've told him about Bulma from the start, full stop.

"Come on," Gohan said, removing his tie. His voice was soothingly encouraging, like he was caring for an agitated patient. "You have no intention of hurting me. You need to know the rest of what happened. If you give me a chance, I would like to explain. I am sorry. It's not like I wanted this. I care for her too."

"Don't tell me you're _sorry_ ," Vegeta said as he released his wife's hand. "Just get on with it."

Gohan approached the balcony window to watch birds gather. When he was a teenager, he once told Bulma that their beauty and serenity kept him focused. The following day, she sent him two nightingales from her father's aviary as a gift. She saw the total person. He would never forget that.

"Bulma was already far along with her research by the time she came to me," he continued. "We isolated a sequence from the Saiyan genome that needed a delivery method into her DNA – in this case we used a modified virus. I said no when she first asked for help, but she seemed genuinely hurt. She wanted a longer life span and to share something with you that she truly believes you need – maybe even learn some ways to fight alongside you if the time ever came. It excited her, especially because she's accomplished so much already. Others could eventually step into her research duties. Then she asked what length I would go to if I had a similar chance with Videl – to have more time with her."

Vegeta vowed not to shed tears in front of anyone, especially Gohan, but the words felt like a stake through his chest. He looked down, shaking his head. "Then why didn't she tell me at first?"

Gohan closely studied his reaction. Prodding nicks in the prince's mental armor during this tense time was equal parts dangerous and necessary. He had to be careful, but he kept the long game in mind.

"How many times have you defied Bulma's wishes when you strongly believed in something, Vegeta? But I said from the start to tell you anyway. _I asked her several times._ I thought it was her responsibility to work it out with you. We really were seeing good results. Then you both learned about the pregnancy…"

Vegeta clenched his fists. "I…I… cannot listen to this anymore."

"I believe I can help Bulma get through this if you let me," Gohan persisted. "It's risky to change course now because her physical transformation is so far along, but…."

Listening to his appeal, Vegeta felt the stirrings of incipient rage and shame that he hadn't experienced in years. Clearing his throat, he licked his lips and faced him.

"Gohan, your daughter has lost one parent… and Kakarot is my friend. They are the _sole reasons_ why I haven't torn you apart. Here are the ground rules: Stay away from my family, permanently. Pan will only see my daughter at my discretion. If my wife and unborn child… die… or suffer from any disability, short of killing you outright, I will do everything in my power to make you forget what good fortune feels like. You will become a pariah among those who now respect you. Your father won't shun you, I'm sure, but I have no doubt that he will be just as disappointed as I am right now. _Now get the fuck out my sight_."

"Vegeta, I would hope you could forgive me as others did with you, including Bulma. You can blame me all you want, but ultimately your wife made what she believed was the best choice. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself for what happened yesterday, either, which it sounds like you're doing."

Gohan gasped as his head slammed into the wall. Vegeta's thick, sweltering hand encased his throat like a vise, while the other pressed heavily into his chest. The prince leaned next to his ear, wild-eyed and panting, until he could silence the seething voices flooding his mind.

" _How does it feel, boy_? Bulma can't breathe without help, and now neither can you. _I told you not to provoke me._ I wish I could say I disliked choking you, but I'm _really_ enjoying it – and your _pathetic_ attempt to guilt trip me demeans you. Besides my wife and son, you are the only person I have ever apologized to for my actions – twice - because _I_ respected you. You aren't telling the whole truth, so do not expect forgiveness for a goddamn thing. I have always manned up to my deeds. _You aren't_ \- and so help me, I will discover why."

Gohan grabbed frantically at his throat, legs thrashing, until his eyes rolled backward. Vegeta smiled darkly and dropped him on the floor, stepping on his chest. "You still have an opportunity to tell the truth, _doctor_. That might make up somewhat for your shameful inability to defend yourself properly in my presence. What a pity."

Sensing their energy levels surge, Goku instantly reappeared in the room. His anger spiked seeing Gohan on the floor, clutching his neck and coughing. Vegeta's eyes slowly raised to meet his.

"What…what _happened_ here?!" he said, bending down next to Gohan. "What did you do, Vegeta?"

"Ask him," he replied flatly. "Maybe he won't lie to his own father by omission, like he just did with me."

Goku stepped forward with his fists clamped. "You need to calm yourself, friend."

"That is not _your_ call," Vegeta said, crossing his arms. "Think twice about giving _me_ any orders before hearing the facts, Kakarot."

All three looked up as the heart monitor alarm next to Bulma went off. Gohan pulled himself up to approach the bed until Vegeta grabbed and pushed him back into Goku's arms.

"Damn it, Vegeta! You have to let me go! Her heart rate and blood pressure are irregular. She may be having complications."

"You have done enough!"

Tights pushed past them with another doctor and nurse following closely behind. " _Silence!_ Get out, _all of you!_ "

Gohan seized her arm. "Tights, listen to me. I think heart enlargement is causing Bulma's blood pressure fluctuation and arrhythmia."

"Fine," she said, following them out of the room. "They're attending to her. Why were you arguing? It's still possible that she can hear you while comatose."

"Something else… is wrong." Vegeta approached the window facing the room's interior. "I can't sense her ki."

Frowning, Tights touched his and Goku's shoulders. "I need you all to listen _carefully_. My sister could go into cardiac arrest if her heart is growing too fast. The doctor in there now is reviewing chest images and will likely increase her blood pressure medication. Given her current condition, my guess is each transitional stage could overwork vital organ systems. In other words, her body's attempts to 'catch up' could make things harder. We must slow down the process."

Vegeta's eyes shifted to Gohan. "Say something – now."

Gohan's expressionless gaze left Goku feeling uneasy. "Son, why is he so angry with you? Were you… involved with what happened to Bulma?"

"Dad, it's not what you think."

Goku covered his face and sighed. "What am I _supposed_ to think? That sounds like a yes."

"I tried to explaining to Vegeta."

Horrified, Tights grabbed Gohan's lab coat. "Oh my god. You helped her?! How long were you going to sit on this information? What is wrong with you?!"

"Go back in there," Vegeta said, pulling her aside. Gripping the door frame, he turned his back on Gohan and Goku. "He cannot return, Kakarot. Now get him out of here before I finish what I started."

Gohan moved forward. "Vegeta, wait… "

Goku wondered if his son had lost all common sense. Vegeta had always been an unpredictable hornet's nest when enraged. "Just _stop_ talking," he said sharply. "Put your hand on my shoulder so we can leave… and I'm sorry, Vegeta."

"Hn."

Tights hesitantly stopped Vegeta before they returned to Bulma's bedside. "I can't believe this. Did Gohan at least say anything else about helping to treat her?"

"Yes, but he won't come near her again." He turned away, indicating his expectation for total obedience. "You are well-equipped to handle whatever needs to be done - and believe me, I am not finished with Kakarot's son."

Tights had been practicing level-headed answers all day to compassionately manage her brother-in-law's demands, but he looked ready to slaughter. "Look, Vegeta, I'm just as furious, but we need more details about the experimentation. Beating the hell out of Gohan isn't our biggest priority. We can't afford to shun him."

He stared hard at her. This was the worst time for Tights to doubt herself, and he was pissed. "Did I not just make myself clear? This is not a negotiation. _Look at my wife_. Your _only_ choice is ensuring her recovery. Saiyans _do not_ give in easily - and, by extension, neither will you!"

* * *

Bulma screamed for what seemed like an eternity, but this time no one came: not her parents, Vegeta, Tights, Goku, Yamcha, Krillin. She was alone, in a desert, surrounded by red sand dunes. She felt confused and disoriented, as if someone had drugged her. Strange noises ricocheted from within the dreamscape she inhabited, and she had no tools to silence the frightening din. Shimmering electric pulses sparked from her hands, burning through the arid wind. With her back arched, she levitated from the ground with her arms raised. Her hair, now colored gold, stood erect.

"I'm here now, Cress."

"Kaleb?"

Gohan's shadow appeared, stretching a hand in her direction. He scanned the landscape before sending a fireball crashing to the ground. Then he held her from behind, lifting her hands. Trying to relieve the cloudiness infecting her mind, she shook her head.

"No, Kaleb."

"You must," he insisted. "You chose this."

Her eyes felt heavier as her body warmed within his embrace. She looked forward, smiling. "I chose this."

Vegeta's image suddenly appeared on the ground where she fired. The blasts violently ripped through his chest until he stumbled and fell, choking on his blood. Recognizing her terrible mistake, Bulma broke from Gohan's grasp and flew next to her husband, shrieking and crying hysterically.

Gohan soon landed beside her, calmly observing the results. As Vegeta lay dying, he walked past them and vanished. She held her partner's hand, sobbing, until his eyes opened.

"Stop crying," he murmured. "I love you. You know that."

She wiped her face and nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I know, Bulma. I know. Use your power wisely."

As her husband's body dissolved into dust, her rational mind recognized the absurdity of the experience. She was dreaming, but the nightmare repeated with the same ending. She couldn't control the outcome no matter how hard she tried, and the stress was shattering her spirit from the inside out.

* * *

Gohan had been influenced his entire life by extraordinary mortals whose strength and bravery matched their egos and idiosyncrasies. When he was a child, they inured him to fighting out of necessity. Becoming a true warrior was the next step, because they recognized his potential to surpass them all. Years later, he believed that Goku and Vegeta still secretly hoped for his ultimate ascension to secure _their legacies_ as Saiyans. Piccolo, the mystic Namekian who trained him, eventually forced them to accept his adolescent reluctance to assume that role. And yet, deep down, Gohan suspected his former mentor, too, would've been just as pleased if he had chosen otherwise.

Ironically, Vegeta had been the most disappointed: the proud Saiyan warrior who wouldn't rest until his talents matched Goku's; the former egotist who once called Gohan a "half breed," defiantly, until he had a child of his own; the intense strategist who offered scorchingly blunt and, often, wise advice when called upon; and one who, as he matured, quietly looked out for him. Their heritage loomed large, and Gohan had finally vanquished his indecision about his role. He felt confident about the nascent resurrection of the _true_ Prince of all Saiyans, reclaiming his destiny to rule, with Bulma as the motivator. The story was writing itself. She was Vegeta's greatest strength and weakness.

Goku struggled to understand his son's behavior as they faced each other outside of Hercule's estate. From the time they left the hospital, it dawned on him that Gohan may have been sorry for what happened to Bulma but didn't regret helping her. The lack of remorse appalled him.

"They have children, just like you do! Did you stop _once_ to think about that, Gohan? How could you agree to help Bulma put her life in danger?"

Gohan threw up his hands."Oh, please. You have _some nerve_ lecturing me about endangering anyone. Neither you nor Vegeta have a leg to stand on that subject. Maybe you should consider my part in this differently."

Agitated, Goku rubbed his fist. "Well, what?"

Wondering if he should continue, Gohan jammed his hands into his pockets. His father had already made up his mind. Good and bad. Black and white. Although his mother Chi-Chi had been rightfully accused of using this two-way, restrictive thinking to raise her sons, Goku had his moments as well.

"Bulma and Vegeta are equals in ways you and mom will _never_ be. From the beginning, her creativity and hard work helped _you_ reach your goals. Same with Vegeta, but at least he doesn't take her for granted anymore like you. She has given of herself tirelessly, and now she's entering the next phase of her journey, desiring to strengthen their bond. She's very sick and I want to help treat her, but I can't support any attempt to reverse her transformation. It would be too unsafe, especially with her pregnancy, and it's not what she would want. Before he choked me, I pushed Vegeta to think rationally and stop resisting change. Until he comes around, maybe I can convince Tights to let me help privately."

It was difficult, but Goku overlooked the insults lobbed at him. "Absolutely not, Gohan. I agree with Vegeta. You have done enough. Continuing to anger him risks your welfare, which would force me to step in. That's unfair and disrespectful to all of us."

"Well, dad, you won't convince me to do or believe anything differently."

Gohan tried not to ridicule his father's appeal to "fairness." He had come to believe as Vegeta once did: that fairness could be one-sided. Seeking to safeguard their dominance, some people used the word manipulatively to impose their will on those with less power. _It's only fair that you see our side of things. It's the best decision. It will help you. It's only fair. It's only fair._

Bullshit.

Sensing his son's impatience, Goku decided to leave, even though he didn't want to. "You know, Gohan, I was up all night supporting a grieving family – our friends - and I'm tired now. We can talk later, when you're up to it. Since you're so _committed_ to your beliefs, I'll leave it you to tell Pan why she won't see Bulla now. And be sure to tell my granddaughter the whole truth - because if you don't, I will."

Gohan kicked the spot on the ground where his father disappeared. A grin emerged on his face as a ghost-like image of himself hovered nearby, laughing derisively.

He was laughing.

"You're a fool."

* * *

Trunks found Vegeta asleep in a recliner next to Bulma's bed later that evening. Hearing from Tights about Gohan's involvement had left him reeling and angry, but he also worried about the tremendous pressure on her to find solutions. It could take months, and she hadn't yet told Vegeta about the risk of Bulma developing cancer if a different experimental gene-therapy regimen failed. In a little more than twenty-four hours, it seemed like each change in Bulma's condition was intended to disappoint them - and, like his father, Trunks also couldn't sense her ki.

At first he reconsidered bringing Bulla with him to the hospital, but she was more reserved than he expected. She hugged his waist as they quietly observed their mother, attempting to comfort him instead. Then she crawled into Vegeta's lap. He grunted softly and folded his arms around her.

"What… time is it, princess?" he said drowsily.

"Around seven, papa."

Vegeta looked up at Trunks. "You should not have let me sleep this long."

"There was no reason to wake you," he said, removing his jacket. "I was here earlier before picking up Bulla, after you met with the medical team. Aunt Tights updated me."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow, clearly signaling concern about what Bulla knew. He tapped her elbow. "Are you afraid? Do you want to discuss what you're seeing here with your mother?"

"No," she said, looking plaintively at Bulma. "Trunks helped me understand what happened to mommy. I just don't want _you_ to be afraid, papa. You look so sad."

"I… am fine, princess. Your papa has dealt with _a lot_ of pain, so you don't need to protect me. However, I expect you to talk with me or your brother if you're upset or confused about anything."

She nodded, taking another long look at her mother. "Do you mind if I find aunt Tights now?"

"Go ahead."

Trunks and Vegeta had been thinking similarly as they watched her leave. They entered the connected room to speak freely.

"I think she's angry."

Vegeta nodded at him. "I know she is. She's too calm, and she barely acknowledged your mother. What did you say?"

"I told her the truth, leaving out the part about Gohan for now, and I said we won't know everything about mom's reasoning until she wakes up. I left the door open for you to explain if she… doesn't."

"Very good."

Hoping to continue their relaxed conversation, Trunks grasped his father's shoulder. "So, um, can you try to hear me out about mom's care?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He abruptly pulled away. "No."

"Papa, look, I'm uncomfortable with it too, but Gohan does know more. We can all keep close watch over him. Even though she's upset, Tights doesn't believe he's trying to hurt mom."

"I _said_ no, Trunks! Your collusion with your aunt to manage my choices ends now - and quickly disabuse yourself of the idea that I may act irrationally, because I am _sick_ of hearing it. Tights was the first person Gohan saw, and yet he _waited_ to tell her. Don't you think that's odd?"

" _Code blue_. Medical staff please report! _Code blue_. Medical staff please report!"

"Code blue?" Trunks ran to the door as a high-pitched wail blared around them. "Mom's heart stopped! She's flatlined!"

They stood by helplessly while the team worked to resuscitate her. Bulla hung back at the entrance, staring blankly, while Tights hurried in to watch and advise everyone. Feeling ashamed of her mother, the girl refused to cry.


	10. Madness

How would the results be replicated? Bulma was, in effect, a positive control. Her early response to her gene therapy was the baseline from which all other responses should be compared. She experienced severe side effects, and Gohan needed to duplicate the results in other human test subjects to further identify the genetic misfires that caused them. He could then proceed with fixing the problem. Then he would proceed to the next phase: global contagion. The delivery method of the virus used on Bulma could possibly be aerosolized, added to the water or food supply, or spread by a test group of infected persons who, at first, showed no visible symptoms for a longer period.

Yet, the genetic diversity within the humans meant that some people would never become infected. For whatever reason their immune systems would fight off the onslaught. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right then he needed more people to examine who wouldn't be missed by anyone. There would be no search parties or passionate television appeals from families to find these unfortunate lost souls. They would be cared for appropriately at first, but they couldn't leave until he finished with them.

If they died during experimentation, well, their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain, Gohan believed. They would be worthy soldiers playing a vital role to improve their brother-and-sister humans. Their contributions would move the race to a higher level, as Saiyans. Anyone else who wanted to live and prosper peacefully - namely, alien immigrants - would have to accept the outcome. Mortals with special talents or powers that made them useful in the new world order would be given priority to stay on Earth before all others – and they would pledge their loyalty. Anything less would result in death – or maybe even methods of brainwashing - unless they put up a good fight. In Saiyan eyes, a proper resistance is considered noble... however futile.

As planned, if she recovered, Bulma's new status could also be used to attract those _who wanted_ to be stronger - better. These individuals longed to feel superior in ways that their current lives could not offer. They would quietly minister to others, convincing them of the necessity to join. They would do the footwork, helping to infect others with the virus and imprint their minds with a new belief system.

"We'll see," Gohan said to a separate reflection of himself. He would discover a method to wash away his "half-breed" status as well – followed by Goten, Trunks, and Bulla. They were destined for greatness because they were sired by two of the strongest mortals in the universe. Full representative democracy on Earth was possible in the future, but an iron-fisted, autocratic monarchy would be necessary in the beginning to establish order. Vegeta had the will to impose it. Goku would have to find the will - or else there would be hell to pay for him and everyone else.

Gohan observed his encrypted burner phone. No pleasantries would be exchanged on this call.

"I found another body for you, Kaleb. Should have another in a few days."

"You know where to meet me." Gohan hung up before the person could say more. Back to work.

* * *

Madness.

Vegeta's nightmares had returned with a vengeance since Bulma entered the hospital. Sometimes he tried recalling the soothing sound of her voice when she comforted him. On the worst nights he would train in the gravity room until finally passing out from exertion. Later, after breakfast on lunch with their children, he would begin his daily pilgrimage to see his wife, often sitting with her all day. He would leave to train, and to have dinner, but he believed it was his duty to be there as much as possible. Tights would occasionally ask the physical therapists to avoid the room when she found him, alone, massaging and exercising Bulma's arms and legs. He spoke little to anyone, relying on Tights to explain his wife's progress as needed. At home, he kept his promise to be present for his little girl, but overall he was tired – very tired. None of their friends dared speak of it, though. Krillin had been the only one who seriously considered broaching the discussion. He loved his childhood friend immensely and hated to see her husband in so much emotional pain. As a sensei, however, he believed his support might be needed more in the future.

Vegeta recalled earlier conversations with Tights and Goku when his wife first became ill. He spoke cryptically about a situation he would have to disclose soon. He just wasn't ready at the beginning of this nightmare. Each child he and Bulma conceived risked becoming mentally ill in the most terrible of ways early on. The condition arose from a recessive genetic trait in the royal family that his father fiercely kept secret, except from his closest advisers including Nappa, head of the Royal Army. The general later told the young prince after their planet was destroyed. Other Saiyan families carried the trait too. There was no treatment and no cure, even with the advanced technology available. Other Saiyan offspring were afflicted. Infanticide was common once parents began incubating their children during their earliest developmental years, until about age three.

Even though they weren't a couple back then, Vegeta told Bulma early to watch Trunks for symptoms through the boy's fifth birthday. Same with Bulla, and now their next child. Neither discussed the subject at length since they learned of her most recent pregnancy, and no one else knew, not even their children. Bulma's father carried the secret with him to his grave. Vegeta also realized Bulma delayed telling him about her experiments to avoid an even worse argument about this subject. What if it unlocked the condition because the genetic material was new to her body? Did she discover how to edit his genome to eliminate the trait? Hell, even Goku and his boys could have it. Bulma must have shared this with Gohan. If so, he was a dead man walking.

For a time Vegeta wondered if he had a lesser version of the condition, considering whether he was one of the "insane" ones while under Frieza's thumb: the "nature versus nurture argument." He was a "pet" child solider coached in the galactic pirate's bloodthirsty sociopathy, and was beaten regularly for "fun." Survivors from their destroyed planet also bathed Vegeta in the historical lore about Saiyans' winner-take-all warmongering. That had left some hope until, of course, the prince lost his shit dramatically on Earth when he fought the guileless Son Goku, the "low-class" Saiyan he didn't know existed.

Maybe he had a lesser form of the affliction. Yeah, right. Insane? Nope. Brainwashed, perhaps, until he broke free from Frieza's abuse. Sadistic sometimes when he killed on duty, especially when others crossed him? Yes, unfortunately.

His mental possession by the wizard Babadi was the closest he came to complete and irreversible insanity, until he miraculously managed to free himself. Bulma said his typical cunning had vanished at first: He was _recklessly_ psychopathic. Luckily he broke free after realizing that death was preferable to possessed madness.

* * *

Sounds entered and exited his mind without acknowledgement. He had to block them out at first.

"Dr. Brief, Vegeta at this rate of growth, Bulma will give birth three months earlier than a normal pregnancy. It's amazing how much the fetus developed in a month. It's approaching size of a human six-month old now. I don't recommend waiting to deliver until she reaches full term, though."

Bulma had been kept comatose for a month. In that time, her caregivers managed to slow her bodily changes with a drug affecting hormone release in her brain. The treatment also relieved further dangerous blood pressure spikes that could harm her and the fetus. The medication would eventually exhaust itself, though, leaving them in the same place: reversing the changes would be difficult, or maybe next to impossible. And now, despite his angry demands before, Vegeta had largely accepted the outcome. He just wanted her back in his arms, together with their children. Tights finally learned more about the genetic trait in his bloodline. If she couldn't do anything else, she would work diligently on that. Bulma had no choice but to discuss _that_ with her.

Tights moved to the foot of bed. "So, Todd, what you're saying is deliver the baby early."

"Yes, ma'am. She should have surgery by cesarean section before she's brought out of the coma."

She and the obstetrician looked at Vegeta, who was examining the ultrasound image. The fetus was curled in a ball, sucking its thumb. He saw the little tail, fingers, toes, and heard the swishing heartbeat. His felt his chest throbbing, matching each little palpitation.

"Vegeta?"

"Hmm?" He scratched his beard and faced them. "Yes, that's fine, Tights, as long as it doesn't..."

"There's always risk," she interjected, "but I believe Bulma's in a better position now. We'll examine the baby for defects as soon as the surgery is over. His lungs aren't fully developed, and he may need help eating, which is normal for babies delivered prematurely at this stage. He'll be in an incubator."

Vegeta gave her a slight smirk. "You know Saiyan babies are incredibly strong. I feel his life force without even touching his mother. His body will catch up quickly. Give him a day or two. Trust me."

Tights pinched her arm as she left. Vegeta's quiet, determined assurances often made her tearful, but she avoided crying near him anymore. The return of his prideful stoicism felt comforting. No doubt he was still angry, though.

By the end of the week his son was born. Trunks stood by his father, watching the staff wheel Bulma from the operating room. Tights brought the tiny baby to the window.

"Do you sense his power, son?"

Trunks tapped on the window and smiled. "Oh yes. He's a fighter already. Just wait for at least a week before opening the training room for business."

Vegeta frowned at him. "The earlier the better. Your sister is a handful already. Where is she anyway?"

"In the lounge," Trunks said hesitantly. "She… didn't want to be here."

"What do you mean she _doesn't want_ to be here?" Vegeta inhaled deeply to calm himself. "I understand what she's going through, but this behavior cannot continue – not like this. Go get her now."

Trunks rubbed the back of his neck. He often did when considering ways to appease his father. "Maybe you should wait until the doctors bring mom out of the coma. Bulla may feel differently then."

"Trunks, family is all we have whether Bulma lives or dies now," he said, facing the operating room again. "Your sister will regret her actions forever if the latter happens. She will face hardships in life, just like us, and she must make peace with her mother. She must follow our example. My word is final, understand?"

"Yes, father."

"Actually, I'll meet you in the lounge shortly. It's time I shared something with you that Bulma and I also should have discussed earlier. Then you both can be equally pissed off with us."

Trunks draped his hand over his forehead. "Ugh, please, no more revelations. I don't know if I can take more."

"You're speaking with someone who was tortured mercilessly as a boy, routinely called a pet monkey, and had his planet blown to oblivion," Vegeta said flatly. "Do you really want to go there? You even got a decent hug out of me recently, dude. Suck it up."

Shaking his head, Trunks laughed and opened the door. "All right. You win."

They nodded at each other before Vegeta walked toward the recovery room. He put on surgical scrubs, covering most of his body, as well as a mask, gloves, and shoe covers. Doing this annoyed him, and he cantankerously told everyone as much, but the medical team insisted that this ritual protected his wife from post-surgical infection.

He sat down next to her and activated a small image of their son on his watch. He was so eager to see his wife breathing on her own, but it would be several more days before the team would remove the ventilator. "Our third child is here, Bulma, and _this time_ he gets a Saiyan name. After everything we've been through together, I deserve that honor. He is quite handsome, too, just like his father. I suspect that his premature birth that your sister is so worried about won't be a problem by the time you awaken. Everyone is ready for you to meet him, especially me. You and I…will work out the rest between us, as partners."

The prince stood to leave as emotion flooded his mind and heart. There would be no tears, though. Not today.

"I still have my family."

* * *

Pan had largely stopped speaking to Gohan, preferring to spend most of her time with her grandparents and uncle Goten. They all agreed that she needed stability because of her father's emotional distance, but they considered staging an intervention. Gohan's behavior was quickly becoming indefensible, they believed. None of them knew much about psychotherapy, but they understood the healing benefits of meditation and reflection – what any thoughtful, serious practitioner of martial arts training should know well.

Gohan left his office at the medical tower distracted, as he usually was. He had been thinking nonstop about Bulma. The security on the floor was heavy, and not a word emerged about her true physical condition. To avoid rampant speculation and inaccurate rumors, Capsule Corporation employees were told she had complications during pregnancy that required close monitoring. Even Vegeta didn't want that information shared, but Hercule, who was skilled in manipulating the media, said revealing some details would be helpful. Then the family could ask for privacy from the public "at this difficult time." People would feel sympathetic, especially because it was Bulma.

Instead of using his hover car, Gohan decided to walk and then fly home. It was late, as usual, and he prepared himself for another night of not seeing his daughter and lecturing from Hercule. He would eventually repair his relationship with his daughter. He loved her deeply and resented his judgmental family for implying that he didn't care about her feelings at all. He was trying to make a better life for everyone, including her. She would reach her full potential, too, through his work.

His back stiffened, while his shoes scratched the pavement. Frustrated, he exhaled and bowed his head.

"Son Gohan, may I join you?"

Gohan slowly turned around. "Do I really have a choice?"

"No, but I'm trying to be polite," Piccolo said. "It doesn't always come naturally. Now come follow me."

"Look, Piccolo, I don't need another person telling me how terrible I am. My skin is pretty thick from those arguments."

"Never assume anything about me or my motivations," he replied, handing him a two-piece white garment and cloth belt. "You learned that when I first trained you as a child, and you don't get a pass for forgetting it just because you're all grown up. Now let's go."


	11. Consequences

**Summary: Gohan's mind and identity move between poles. Separately, Trunks and Tights are bracing themselves for Vegeta's response.**

* * *

By far, Piccolo and Vegeta were now evenly matched in their abilities to look straight through people. It was a badge of honor and, secretly, they bonded over it. They were not close and would likely never be, but they understood each other both as brilliant fighters and as men. Both had moved beyond their lesser, more horrific selves because love found them on a world that wasn't their own. Correction: Love stomped the crap out of them until they submitted kicking and screaming. Love for Gohan had brought the dignified Namekian there, and his manner was stoic and calm as usual. His mind was anything but.

"I suppose you have a place in mind for our _conversation_?"

"You're a smart man, Gohan. I'll give you one guess."

"Piccolo, really? You want to fly to Break Wasteland to spar? I do work for a living, you know. It is rather late."

"For a living, huh?" He snorted. " _And what kind of living is that_? Cut the bullshit. Your father-in-law is wealthy and has made a loving home for you. You can dictate your own schedule, and you want for nothing – at least materially – but you are deeply unhappy. This is more than just losing Videl. Put on the clothes."

Angered, Gohan threw the fighter's garments back. "As I said, I don't need another lecture. Just because you remember my old training ground fondly doesn't mean I do these days."

Piccolo flew in front to block Gohan's aerial exit. "I feel it, you know."

"Feel what?"

"The darkness inside of you. Tell me about it."

Gohan's eyes went cold. " _There is no darkness._ I see the world as it is, like you. Isn't that what you wanted for me?"

"As my student, I wanted you to harness your physical and mental strength, which remain vast, as well as your intelligence. All are deadly weapons that can corrupt their possessors - but you know that already. Besides me, the only other fighter in our group who fully understands the significance is Vegeta because he has lived it, and you now have antagonized him."

If only he knew, Gohan thought. He almost laughed from the irony. He was trying to harness Vegeta's substantial reservoir of weaponry to create a better way of life for everyone, he believed. His intentions weren't evil or dark, and he certainly wasn't trying to make the prince evil.

"Gohan, in my eyes you are a son. Make things right with your family – and with Vegeta."

"Vegeta is his own man. I can't stop him from being who he is, and I will not change course with Bulma unless she asks directly. Right now she cannot, and I am keeping my promise. How are my actions different from respecting a severely ill person's wish to die rather than seeking more treatment?"

Piccolo sighed. " _You are not listening._ For all of his good works, _not one day_ have I believed that Vegeta could not relapse. _Not one._ Goku told me about the bloodthirsty look he gave you at the hospital. You risked your well-being by assisting Bulma. Her mate is alive today because the Kais expected him to serve a higher purpose, which he has. I want that to continue, and I am here for the both of you. Think about what I'm saying. For now, however, honor your teacher by sparring with me."

Gohan waved him off. "For what? So you can use your empathic abilities to study my inner 'darkness'? Fine. I'll give you what you want so you'll l leave me alone." He stopped flying midair and stripped naked. Holding all of his student's possessions, Piccolo smirked and flew behind him to the Wasteland.

The moon and stars were the only lights in the otherwise pitch-black environment when they arrived. Piccolo, who saw well in the dark, wondered if his protégé had retained that ability too. He scolded himself for the silly concern. Gohan was still half Saiyan. That trait was likely intact and, later, they would probably generate enough light during their fight anyway.

They bowed. Both stepped one foot forward into ready stance, lifting their arms with their fists closed.

"Are you prepared, Son Gohan?!" Master and student locked fists, laughing from the challenge. Within three minutes Piccolo lay on the ground, paralyzed and unconscious from being drugged. Gohan breathed achingly while closing the Namekian's gaping mouth.

The voice of Kaleb, his alter ego, praised his effort, while Gohan sobbed into his hands. "I am not a monster, teacher! I am not! I could never kill you. I will bring you back. I will make you understand. Vegeta and I need you by our side."

His eyes focused on the rocky terrain. Dr. Gero's old lab, where he worked sometimes, was nearby. He would store Piccolo's body in a hyperbaric tank there. No one would miss the Namekian for a while because of his reclusive ways, and Gohan knew he could lie to Goku about what happened. The sudden drop in their _ki_ happened simultaneously after the fight began, so he could say they agreed to quit instead if anyone sensed the change that night. It was unlikely, but he couldn't afford making more mistakes.

Then, calmness washed over him again. Kaleb's image reappeared looking satisfied and a bit smug.

"Well done, Doctor Son."

"I suppose it was. I should not have lost my composure like that. I meant what I said, though."

"I know you did."

"Shall we go now?"

Carrying Piccolo's body to the lab felt much easier afterward. Thinking as Kaleb now, Gohan then reflected on Bulma's condition. He had finally found someone to do his bidding among her the arsenal of protectors at the hospital. He felt like a spy who had convinced an angry employee to steal classified files from work. This turncoat got "rolled" expertly without much effort. The promise of wealth wasn't the sole motivator for betrayal.

Once the heiress awakened, which he knew she would, there would definitely be no turning back. Bulma's thinking would be fully aligned with his. The thought aroused him. She and Vegeta would rule together, _but he_ _would have her_ – at least once. He licked his lips imagining how he would kiss every inch of her body. Arrogantly, he felt assured that she wouldn't reject him.

* * *

"How are things?"

It was 1 a.m., and Trunks sat smoking on the balcony in his bedroom. His father, in particular, was furious when he learned of his habit a year earlier. Vegeta stopped offering to spar for fun after that. Although Trunks felt hurt, he couldn't blame him for reacting that way.

"If you mean is he sleeping now, Tights, then yes. I don't know for how long."

"Are you coming? It would be nice if she sees you first after waking up."

"Don't sweet talk me. The person who needs to see mom first is my father. You know that."

"And you know that each step in Bulma's recovery may be an emotional fault line for Vegeta. Honey, you and I must rely on each other. We've done well so far."

Trunks stared at the cigarette's glowing tip. Counting tiny smoke rivulets had become a form of brooding. "I have watched his behavior lately. He is still upset, as we all are, but he's not two steps away from torching West City to ashes. My little brother is here now. If anything, papa seems more hopeful."

Smiling, Tights touched her sleeping nephew's incubator. "Are you any closer to having a name?"

"There will be no naming ceremony until mom is better – and good lord, if there's any subject you should avoid discussing yet with my father, that one ranks high on my list."

"See what I mean, Trunks? We have to walk on eggshells about _everything_ with him. You know my personality. This doesn't come naturally for me, but Bulma's situation is new territory for my relationship with Vegeta, and not until recently had I understood just how deeply he loves her."

Trunks rubbed his eyes and stood. "I'll be there in an hour or less – and sometimes with papa you just have to confront him. I don't walk on eggshells, usually. It would drive me nuts. I decide how I want to deal with him and prepare for the consequences – good or bad. But I also try to understand where he's coming from, no matter how angry. I'm telling you not to ask about naming my brother because, if I were married, I would want my wife there too. You're making some decisions harder than what they should be."

"You are such a great young man. I wish we could clone you."

Trunks laughed. "Bye now."

He was fully dressed within two minutes – and annoyed that he left his Capsule Corporation jacket the family room. He and Bulma often wore their matching outfits when he drove Vegeta's sports car in the mountains. They discussed life and laughed during these intimate moments. Now, wearing the jacket had become a kind of pseudo talisman to ward-off evil, so leaving it at home was non-negotiable.

"You're awake."

Vegeta had been pressing tiny puzzle pieces into a giant replica of Earth's galaxy, the Milky Way, when Trunks came for his jacket. Everyone worked on the project whenever they wanted, much like the open chess board in the living room. Chess pieces would move around when people were in the house - family or not - but no one ever sat down for a formal game. Those were the rules. The players were anonymous. No one ever knew who got checkmate - or, eventually, won.

"You act like my insomnia is a rare occurrence, Trunks - and I know you felt my presence before entering. Where are you going? And please don't say something stupid. You're not on campus, so I get to ask now that you're living here again."

"To see mom and the baby."

Vegeta looked up. "Is something wrong?"

"No big changes. I need to see them, though, because I want to. I spoke with Tights, and she's says it's fine. You, however, should consider taking those sleeping pills prescribed for you. You're worn out."

"Go."

"Papa, please…"

Vegeta grabbed another handful of puzzle pieces. "I said go. Do not enter Bulma's room reeking of those disgusting cigarettes. It's bad enough that Tights relies on them to relieve her anxiety."

"I won't."

"I want you to quit. You are nearing addiction. I can tell."

Trunks took two of his puzzle pieces and found their spots. "I know you do, and I'm leaving now." They had reached détente in this battle. Separately, each hoped the other would listen at some point.

Doctors had been lowering the coma-inducing drugs from Bulma's system for a few days since the baby's delivery. Her brain activity had stabilized, and she hadn't had further seizures. Tights had given permission to see if her sister could breathe without the respirator, which she could, to everyone's delight. In those late hours before speaking with Trunks, she had decided that the last drug round would end, but she had to be cautious. Doing it quickly would cause an energy spike in Bulma's body that Vegeta would likely sense - and she didn't want him dashing over yet.

She reasoned that her sister could say anything after fully emerging from the coma – and Vegeta would be looking for god-knows-what to "deal" with the situation. That's why she wanted Trunks there first, but he also made a respectable argument to gradually stop treating his father with kid gloves – at least for now. All decisions should be based on circumstance.

Tights took Bulma's hand. "Hey there, smarty pants. It's about time you pulled yourself together." She looked up when her sister's eyes fluttered.

Trunks, who could barely contain his excitement, sat tearfully on the opposite side watching. "I'm here. I'm so ready to see those beautiful eyes. I don't care if they changed color." Bulma's head moved slightly, but her eyes remained closed.

"Kaleb?"

Trunks and Tights' eyes met. Both withheld the extent of their shock and worry that she hadn't said Vegeta's name first. Trunks cleared his throat and leaned over again. "Kaleb?"

"Kaleb..."

Trunks immediately opened a telepathic link with Tights. "It's time to take her off all the drugs now. We'll find a way to handle dad once he realizes that she's awake. I can't wrap my head around this. How can she not ask for him? I don't care about me. This is really bad."

She shook her head. "It is concerning, but I disagree with moving forward so quickly. This Kaleb could be someone real or, maybe, an imaginary person from a coma dream. Let' try to get more information without upsetting her. Her blood pressure is up, but I think we're fine for now. Also, I can't guarantee that Bulma won't say the name again after the drugs are completely out of her system. Her brain still needs to readjust. She may remain in and out of normal consciousness."

"He is on his way here now." Trunks closed his eyes and sighed. "Damn it."

"I guess there's nothing more we can do," Tights replied, squeezing his hand. "Let's prepare for the consequences, good or bad, tough guy."


	12. Making an Entrance

**Summary: Some intentions are good. Others are dangerous. The family's awareness and responses remain complicated.**

* * *

Vegeta entered the room chewing on a toothpick, with hands in both pockets. His eyes moved in a triangle from his wife, to his son, and then his sister-in-law.

"Have the nurse sit with her," he said calmly. "Meet me in the lounge in twenty-five minutes – both of you. Get your stories straight before attempting to bullshit me, okay?"

Tights looked back at Bulma. "Vegeta…"

He held up his finger. "Twenty-five minutes."

Despite their worries, Trunks and Tights snickered afterward. Both hoped he responded that way on purpose to reduce the tension between them – unlikely, but they needed something to hold onto.

"I guess he'll always be this dramatic."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me." Trunks said. "I'm surrounded by drama queens - including you, auntie. I'm the most normal among you all."

Tights slapped his shoulder and then looked back at Bulma.

"We will… tell your father what happened before his arrival. You fine with that?"

"I am."

"What about the other ideas you have in mind, honey?"

Trunks leaned on door, glancing at his watch. "I won't lie to papa, but I'm not volunteering information about my plans either. If he asks, then I am prepared to keep my mouth shut. He can't follow me everywhere."

Tights looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, well, let's not give him many more reasons to try unless it's highly necessary. I am sorry about handling this part badly, sweetheart. He should have been with us."

"Don't apologize," he said, embracing her. "I came here anyway."

Vegeta entered the private neo-natal intensive care room dressed in scrubs and gloves to see his son. The visit would be quick, but he needed it. The nurse on duty left the room but kept close watch on the baby's vital signs flashing on a monitor outside. Vegeta reached into the incubator's covered, protective holes to touch his baby – to hold him as close as possible. The boy was thriving but not as quickly as the prince desired or expected. Of his three children, he wondered if this one would be permanently disabled because of Bulma's health complications. While these thoughts pained him, just like his other kids, this child would have all of the support he could muster.

He also recognized that there would be more sacrifices.

"I finally have a name that suits you, little prince _._ You will be called Sorrel, and I expect you to hold your father's hand without this worthless equipment soon." He smiled as the baby's fingertips brushed his. "Your brother and I felt your power. Like your mother, you will be able breathe on own."

His head fell slowly as he leaned over the incubator. Then he covered his eyes. Concerned, the nurse re-entered the room. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Do not worry about me," he said hoarsely. "I am just tired. Focus on my son."

He didn't bother to remove the scrubs before entering the lounge. Tights and Trunks sat next to each other looking just as concerned as the nurse did. He found that ironic since they seemed to be making extra effort to keep him annoyed with their antics.

"Our son will be named Sorrel."

"I am sure Bulma will love it." Tights said, "She'll be excited to see him."

Vegeta hoped she would be; unfortunately, he also considered what would happen if she wasn't at first. He sat down to avoid seeing his reflection in a mirror behind them. Dark circles rimmed his eyes from lack of sleep. They settled intently on his sister-in-law. She was monitoring his body language, obviously.

"Look, Tights, I do not expect you to understand everything about my marriage or personality. I am even willing to admit that you have several valid reasons for resenting me. With that said, your father and sister also had good reasons for not sharing certain details _about_ me with you."

"But I haven't…"

He held up his hand. "Do not allow your softer opinion of me now to rewrite history. Your resentment of my relationship with Bulma has been fueled by fear of me and of the unknown. I saw through your brazenness when we first met, after I… and the other fighters helped Gohan destroy Cell. I would not make you feel better about who I was back then, and I won't now. The truth is your fear is justified."

Tights glanced at Trunks, who appeared untroubled. Her nephew also knew much more than she, apparently. That hurt, but she accepted since Vegeta was trying hard to be open with her.

"So what does that mean, Vegeta? How will you handle Bulma if she wakes up just as stubborn as before? What will you do _when_ she wants to return to work? If she remains ill, how will revenge against Gohan and anyone else involved help her or my nephew? What about your friends? Her friends. Of course I'm worried that you're ready to fight the world – and you can't keep my sister in a gilded cage."

"I am not seeking revenge…yet," he replied. "I _expect_ the truth from Gohan. I _expect_ him to abandon further experimentation _and_ contact with my wife. I _might_ be satisfied after those assurances, or I _might_ _not_. You won't be able to control that; you must accept it. My children need me most now, so I am biding my time. I am not going anywhere."

Tights crossed her arms to lie face-down on the table. "Truth about what?"

"Gohan has plans beyond his work with Bulma, and I want to know what they are. He isn't the kindhearted cub others still imagine him to be, especially since his wife died. I see that now. His irritable Namekian trainer likely sees through the facade. His father is worried, but his overconfidence that 'everything will work out' has screwed Kakarot before – and others. We have all been fortunate, but I will never feel the same way."

Trunks nodded. "I get what you're saying now, papa, and I want know too. That's why we should keep Gohan close to us."

Vegeta had more reasons to be suspicious of Trunks intentions too. His son was terrible at trying to appear naïve and incompetent. He was fully capable of crafting intricate strategic plans to get his way - but every decision comes with a cost.

Vegeta leaned forward. "Here's what I demand from you both: truthfulness. Your sloppy, half-assed attempts to deceive me, while well-intentioned, are eroding my trust. Either do a _better job_ – if you strongly believe in your cause – or stop attempting. Just don't lie. I don't need any more stress, _and this is last time I will ask patiently_."

Tights looked up at him. "I asked Trunks to come while I tried waking Bulma. I was doing it slowly to observe her responses before you could rush over."

"Fine." He crushed a paper cup in his hands angrily. "Now that I'm considering whether to throw your bodies from a window, tell me this: Was it worth the trouble?"

* * *

Iris, the nurse who entered Bulma's room earlier, had given Trunks and Tights a thumbs-up to reassure them that her patient was in good hands. Along with her routine hospital duties, the thin, blonde-haired woman had been part of the Briefs' private medical team for years. She also had been an attending nurse the day Gohan and Vegeta argued. Everyone on the team regarded Bulma and each other like family. She must have participated in an experiment – that seemed clear -but Tights had not shared many details about what happened _before_ her sister entered the hospital. And no one dared to ask Vegeta for the entire story. The team's loyalty and dedication to provide the best care had to come first - always.

Iris, however, was riveted. Why would a woman with vast wealth and intelligence, a loving family, and dazzling beauty do _this_ to herself? Gohan's involvement "confirmed" her suspicions as soon as she saw Vegeta lunging for the man's throat on video from the nurses' station. "Too bad there was no audio," she told the other attending nurse. The man promptly scolded her for being nosy.

She should have listened to him.

Iris didn't know what compelled her to visit Gohan's office as Bulma's hospital stay lengthened. Curiosity? Definitely. Regardless, Bulma needed more than Tights guiding her sister's continuing care. Iris didn't know every detail, but Gohan _needed_ to help, she thought. Her cousin Myra, his student, told her a long time ago about Gohan's his closeness to Bulma. Surely he meant no harm. Bulma made her own decisions, and everyone had to accept reality. Beyond that, medical staff were used to Vegeta's overprotectiveness even before his wife fell ill. Although he wasn't effusive, she knew he respected her professionalism over the years. Maybe she could be a bridge for everyone to come together. Tights would be relieved.

Gohan listened closely as Iris described Bulma's condition. He laughed at first when she finished, but his gaze was deadly. He couldn't believe his good fortune. "Sounds like you have a god complex, lady. Many medical workers do, including me. What happened between Vegeta and me, however, is none of your damn business. But guess what? _I own you now._ "

He threatened that day to tell her manager about her "serious breach of patient confidentiality." Then, he thought about Myra. If Iris wanted to keep job – and protect her cousin's position—then she would be his embedded informant. The woman's face turned alabaster-white from fear when Gohan dug his nails into her left arm. Then, he pulled her in close.

"You were stupid and sloppy by coming here, nurse. Thus, because of your disrespect, you will now handle _my demands_. Carry them out with the same _high-standard_ you apply to patient care. Don't fuck it up. Attempting to screw me over will be much worse for you, I guarantee. Put a bandage on that lovely bruise before leaving, too. Now get the hell out of my office."

Iris reflected on these events as she held a syringe next to the hospital bed. She planned to inject a light tranquilizer into an IV catheter attached to Bulma's arm. The nurse's movements appeared routine on video, and she was prepared to lie at any time. She gently stroked Bulma's hair – now thick and wiry like Vegeta's – and apologized silently for her sins. She then examined brainwave activity before searching for a tiny adhesive disc attached to Bulma's scalp. Although no larger than the tip of a push-pin, the electromagnetic device's circuitry was sophisticated, serving dual purposes of broadcasting and reshaping the mind's response to stimuli – and this one had been "enhanced." Iris activated the device regularly, often wondering how Bulma's mind would eventually be affected.

The device wasn't a new invention. Doctors had used them for years to treat people with other neurological conditions. Patients would be strongly responsive to post-hypnotic suggestion, but using the tool more than a few months wasn't recommended. Gohan instructed Iris to attach it and check regularly as Bulma's condition stabilized.

"I will do the rest," he said, giving her a small device she didn't recognize. That was still attached to wall behind the bed's headboard. Iris held her breath each time hospital security scanned her body, and she was upset that they failed to protect Bulma and her family as well as everyone believed they were. No one thought she could be a mole.

Bulma hadn't moved much after Trunks and Tights left. Iris had to keep it that way until she finished.

"You'll be fine, Dr. Brief," she whispered. Bulma's eyes opened slightly. Then she grabbed Iris's neck.

* * *

The jolt struck Trunks and Vegeta like lightening.

"Dad!"

"I know!"

They sped to Bulma's room, arriving before security guards. To their horror, Iris lay unconscious on the floor. Tights called for Trunks to perform CPR until she placed shock pads on the woman's chest to restore her heart rhythm.

Vegeta approached his wife's bed while another nurse and the guards entered to help. He then looked back when they transferred Iris onto a stretcher.

"She's breathing now," Tights said, "and her windpipe isn't crushed. Bulma held her neck just long enough to cut off air."

"Which takes seconds when you're stronger," Vegeta said, noticing the syringe on the floor. "I'll stay."

 _Iris got too close. It must have startled Bulma in her semi-conscious state._ He moved nearer, carefully seating himself. "You are fine," he said, taking her hand in his. "No one is trying to hurt you. Can you hear me, Bulma?"

She held on to his finger. Relieved, he looked up at the ceiling. Bulma tried to speak as he detached the bed rail. Trunks had returned biting his top lip. He felt agitated and desperately wanted a cigarette.

"Iris is being cared for downstairs. How is mom?"

Vegeta waved for him to come closer. "She hasn't said anything understandable yet, but she responded positively to my voice. Sit on the other side."

Trunks nodded for his father to speak mentally. "Papa, what do you think?"

"She was startled."

"What about her ki spike?"

"Give me time to think, son."

"We can't let this happen again. She might kill someone before we can stop her."

"Enough, Trunks! I fucking heard you! You are driving me crazy!"

Angry and hurt, Trunks ended their telepathic connection and kissed his mother's hand. "I'm leaving, papa. Bulla has been home alone for too long. Stay with mom. You need to be alone."

Vegeta didn't watch his son leave. What more could be said? They would resolve their differences. They always did.

Bulma's skin coloring now matched his. Her tail – the tail – lay at an angle near him, propped on pillows. Her hair, the once-exquisite, striking example of her physical beauty, now had a new "personality."

But she was alive.

He soon fell into a deep sleep by her side for hours. No one disturbed them that morning, except for the sunlight streaming through the window blinds.

"Wake… up, Vegeta."

His head rose halfway. "You sure do know how to make an entrance, woman. I'm going back to sleep."

* * *

 **Thank you so much for the reviews! I appreciate the help and food for thought. Of course, I am glad so many of you remain interested and excited about this story.**


	13. Ascension

**Recap: Bulma has awakened from her coma after she almost died becoming Saiyan. Her family is searching for stability, especially Vegeta, that may not return anytime soon. Gohan's mental merge with his alter-ego Kaleb is complete, and he's in no mood for obstacles. He's preparing to take his goal for Saiyan dominance on Earth to the next level.**

* * *

The sarcastic joke slipped out as if they were at home. How normal and reassuring it felt. Vegeta buried his face on the bed to hide emerging tears, unable to withhold them after glimpsing the smile he first fell in love with. Each passing day without her companionship, seeing her comatose and ill, had increased his grieving. Nightmares about her seizures were the worst. He was relieved that their children didn't witness the first one at the lab.

So this is what it feels like to be on the other side, he thought. Seeing a loved one near death felt more agonizing than the death itself. Bulma had long accepted Vegeta as he was, but her trauma from repeatedly tending to injuries from various missions, or from his training alone, was strenuous nonetheless. For years her argument had been that his motivation didn't require freakish, ill-focused obsessiveness to the brink of suicide, even as a Saiyan. Winning and savoring victory long enough to enjoy them were worthy goals. "Make yours a noble death if I have to accept it," she told him. "You don't have many lives left to lose." He eventually understood. But now…

"You can go… back to sleep," Bulma said weakly. "I'm sorry. You're tired."

He kissed her hand. "Now you're being silly. _I am_ _exhausted_. I suppose you are forgiven for being imprecise." She wasn't awake long. He listened to the pace of her breathing, and he stroked her tail. The massaging relaxed her. He could tell, remembering how the sensation once felt for him.

Looking as bleary-eyed as her brother-in-law, Tights crept in carrying a large cup of freshly brewed coffee. She wanted to hug him but touched his back instead. Vegeta stiffened reflexively. He was in no mood for uninvited advice, which he anticipated, although he appreciated her thoughtulness.

"This is the blackest, strongest coffee I found. How is she?"

"I want her off the drugs completely," he said, taking the cup. "She woke me up. Said my name."

Once again, Tights berated herself for hoping that Vegeta would be more patient. Each positive breakthrough would likely worsen his exasperation, but being his part-time psychologist was tiring. She had to tell him eventually. Her distress was as significant as his. Krillin visited often, sitting with Bulma when Vegeta left during the day. Tights would talk with him, unburdening her emotions. His patient listening encouraged her.

"That's fantastic. Let the team and me continue from here, Vegeta. We can't empty the drugs from her body all at once. I told you that. It's too much of a shock. Go home for a while. You can bring the kids back later."

"I am not leaving, Tights. Not now - so save your breath."

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"

Vegeta grabbed a handful of his hair, which was slightly tangled. He waved for Tights to follow next door. She was correct about his weathered appearance, but he didn't care. Vanity was the least of his concerns.

"Gazing at myself isn't a habit normally," he replied. "How is Iris?"

Definitely not the first question Tights wanted or expected from him, but she was already preparing for a longer conversation about the nurse.

"Her condition will improve. She had a broken arm and a concussion. Her cousin Myra is a student researcher – also her only family. She's checking on her."

Vegeta looked up. "Tell this woman we will pay for Iris's medical care, full salary, and incidental expenses during her recovery."

"That's generous of you."

"It is also practical. We don't want a lawsuit, though this was an accident. Iris wouldn't win in court, of course, but we don't need publicity either."

"I didn't know you were so well-versed in personal injury law. Not bad for an old pirate."

Indeed, Vegeta was being practical, and yet Tights wondered what the limits were of his practicality. Some people applied that mindset to justify anything they did, no matter how terrible. Vegeta was a changed man, to be sure, but he certainly wasn't above it, especially if family was threatened. Tights knew that after he choked Gohan within an inch of the man's life.

" _Tch._ I followed an honor code during my galactic travels with those who earned my respect, even when I disliked them," Vegeta said. "Capsule Corporation has been sued repeatedly based on others' lies. Humans can be just as treacherous and greedy and stupid as anyone else."

"You've always thought most humans weren't that smart."

"All except for my wife – and now, perhaps, even you."

Tights stifled a laugh. "You are such…"

"An asshole." He smirked. "Yes, I know. It's my second name."

Vegeta thought about the needle he saw on the floor. Bulma's medication schedule shouldn't have been heavy. His eyes fixed on the video cameras.

"How often did you check Bulma's chart since yesterday?"

"Every time I visited," Tights said, "before and after Iris's accident." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"What's her medication regimen?"

"Vegeta, I told you…"

" _You have said little_." He was tired of being told enough information to placate him. "Be upfront. What else is she on now? Are certain tranquilizers still involved because of what happened?"

Tights nodded. "Yes. She's on a drug cocktail, and we must careful with removing the stronger medications. Patients can be aggressive sometimes when their bodies are withdrawing. I should have planned better."

"You should have," Vegeta snapped back. "Others on the medical team should have been with you and Trunks. Your worry about me blurred your judgment. Keep _that_ in mind before you decide to play rebel again."

"Damn it, Vegeta! That's not fair! You can't have it both ways!"

"What _the hell_ does that mean?"

"You've been on my back about managing Bulma's treatment since she was admitted. I'm doing the best that I can, not only because you demand it but also because you and the children are the only family I have left! I'm tough like my sister but I'm tired, just like you! Do you understand? _I am tired!_ You're open with me as much as you can be, but I need my emotions and effort validated too."

Tights exhaled to slow her heartbeats. Vegeta, whose face was unreadable, blinked and stared at her.

"Feeling better now?"

"I swear to god, Vegeta! Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"I am merely validating your emotions," he replied quietly. "I could have rudely defended myself, ignoring your side altogether. I know what you've done. I… know." He folded his arms. "We're an abnormally strong-willed family. Don't doubt your place in it - or where you and I stand anymore. Okay?"

Tights smiled ."Okay." As infuriating as Vegeta could be, he also had a knack for being strangely charming at times, she thought. He never gave anyone reason to doubt his earnestness, though. He meant what he said, undeniably.

Vegeta sipped his coffee. "Good. We are not off the hook when we make idiotic choices. I expect you to say when I do, because I have no intention of stopping with you when necessary."

"So why the questions about the medication schedule earlier?" Tights already knew his mind was spinning around. She had to be quick on her feet.

"Because I saw a syringe on the floor when we found Iris."

"You were there when clean up happened, so it's gone. She was likely giving Bulma a lower dose of one drug to keep her stable. Each dose will be reduced. It's not on the chart, I guess, because she didn't have time to enter it."

Although the nurse had been a trustworthy member of the medical team for years, the prince remained troubled. He wanted to know what happened from the beginning.

"I want to see the video."

"Do whatever makes you feel comfortable," Tights said soberly. "However, would you at least try to eat? Bulma would ask the same of you."

Vegeta closed his eyes. "Of course she would." Then, his jaw tensed. " _Tights, I have to go_ _right now_."

"What are you talking about? What's happening? Where?"

"Home. Do not leave here. You will hear from me." Looking back once more, he rolled up his sleeves and raced out.

 _It's not like I'm going out on a date anytime soon,_ Tights thought. Their conversation was far from finished. She planned to tell Vegeta that Myra was one of Gohan's students. He had to know, and he would likely want to know more, coming directly from Myra herself. How in the hell would that work?

She re-entered her sister's room and sat down. "This is your big sister, kiddo. You've got a good husband. Can you believe that I'm saying this? _Me_ , _of all people_. That should give your recovery a boost." She took Bulma's hand, interlocking their fingers. "He loves you so much."

Though her mind was cloudy, Bulma heard her sister's voice. Tights was stating the obvious, she thought. Vegeta would continue loving her no matter what happened.

 _No matter what_.

Their time would come, when she and king of all Saiyans would rule. Tights would choose their side. She would become like them. _She would want to_. Bulma vowed to ensure it.

They were family.

* * *

Bulla's silence was common now. Trunks tried engaging her when his father couldn't, asking the normally talkative girl questions, tutoring, or simply playing with her. Vegeta hadn't pushed her to train with either of them him since Bulma had been hospitalized. That bothered Trunks, but it wasn't worth mentioning. He just remembered how proud he was when his father explained the significance of becoming a Super Saiyan. Ironically, this happened shortly before and after Vegeta accidentally punched the boy dead in the face while they trained. Trunks was powered up for the first time with his father. Vegeta dared him to land a solid blow, which the boy did. The prince instinctively hit back harder than either expected. Shocked, Trunks broke down into tears. He also learned a lesson: overconfidence in one's powers could be foolish. Skill mattered, always. The rest was history. During lighter moments, Trunks enjoyed poking fun at his father over these memories until they both laughed. After Majin Buu's reign of terror ended on Earth, Vegeta finally kept a promise and took his son to the amusement park. The prince's unspoken apology covered much more than that single punch.

Much more.

Trunks wanted Bulla to feel the same confidence he had back then. The thoughts consumed him until Tights' texted, saying his father would be awake soon. She didn't ask him to return, but it was implied. He allowed Bulla another hour of quiet time outside while he considered Vegeta's reaction after the accident. The man had withstood torture, genocide, parental abandonment, extreme violence, death, post-traumatic stress, loneliness, and loss of identity. But he had risen above them, albeit imperfectly, because he was a dogged fighter. Trunks also knew how his father's past made him vulnerable. Theoretically, Bulma's transformation could be interpreted as a form of respect. But in this case, she challenged an identity that took years to rebuild. What would Bulma really want from him now? Maybe the prince didn't have it to give and never would. Maybe Bulma would decide eventually that _he_ wasn't enough for _her_. Trunks understood his father's fear.

"Hey, princess, we're going to the hospital to meet papa and Tights and see mom."

"I don't want to," Bulla said, walking in the opposite direction. "I want to see Pan. Mr. Satan won't mind if you bring me there."

Trunks sighed as she turned her back on him. "This is not a request, Bulla. If you want, we can see Sorrel first. Mom will want to hear your voice, even though she's not completely awake yet."

"Oh, yeah? Mommy didn't think about us when she almost killed herself. You and papa may not be angry anymore, but I am. She hurt you, Trunks, and papa has been sad ever since. He's trying to be there for us, but I can't see him like this anymore. Did mommy hate being human? _We are part human_. Was she ashamed?"

Trunks had to calm the situation, but finding the right words suddenly became more difficult. "Look, we don't know everything yet. Let's give mom a chance to explain when she's able to. Can you at least do that for me? I know this has been hard, but…"

Bulla's fists clenched. "I said no! No! No! No!" The more Trunks talked, the angrier she became. Her head flailed from side to side. _He wasn't listening._ She didn't want to be touched. Everyone expected acceptance of their decisions – their commands – and it was time to fight back. "Leave me alone! Don't you understand?! Mommy is jealous of us, Trunks! I'm not stupid. I figured it all out. She was jealous of papa paying more attention to me. I didn't do anything wrong! Why didn't she talk to all of us first?"

He lowered his voice. "Honey, listen, I need you to stay with me. Papa wouldn't want this. Focus."

A flash of light burst from both sides from Bulla's direction, and from above, enough to push Trunks backward. He crossed his arms over his face before levitating over ground. The surge was instantly familiar. Bulla's eyes, now teal-colored, fixed into a hard stare as she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her hair spiked blonde. The aura surrounding her illumined like gilt.

Fight or flight were her only options. Trunks felt confident that he could stop her without powering up considerably – or at least try reasoning with her again. Then Bulla had shot skyward like a surface-to-air missile, spinning like a rotating centrifuge. He did _nothing_ like that during his first transformation, even though he could fly. He quickly ceased underestimating her unbridled rage. Had she transcended to a second-level Super Saiyan? Already? It couldn't be. Nope. No way.

 _Shit! Of all the times this could happen! When did she start flying too? That's a stupid question. Papa would have told me! I started flying much younger when I was a kid._

Vegeta definitely would've told him. Trunks' arms flew backward as he transformed to Super Saiyan at full power, flying in front of her. Startled, Bulla reared back with her hands raised parallel: Vegeta's Galick Gun attack pose. The energy wave shot past her brother's right side. She wasn't aiming for a direct hit. Her emotions were muddled. She just wanted to distract him, to get away faster.

Angered, Trunks' eyes narrowed. "Look here, little girl. Unless you want me to knock you into next week, which I still can, you better drop that posture! _You got me? You are not ready to fight like this._ "  
 _  
_"Trunks Brief! Stand down - right now!" Vegeta snatched Bulla from midair, turning her to face him. "Look into my eyes, princess! Look at me! Remember our training. Control yourself. I won't leave you. I won't leave you."

"Papa?" Bulla's voice trembled. "I'm sorry, papa. I just...I just didn't want go. Trunks, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you!" Sobbing softly, she nestled further into Vegeta's chest.

"Yes, we know." Relieved, Vegeta exhaled. "You are safe. I am sorry your ascension happened this way. It should have been different for you." He looked at Trunks. "I will meet you at the hospital later, son."

Trunks kept his eyes on him, wondering whether his father and sister should be left alone. "But…"

Vegeta shook his head. "Please, just do this for me. I am not upset with you."

Bulla must have been training alone when she could, he thought. How could he and Trunks have not known? He tried not to neglect her, so she wouldn't feel completely traumatized by their family's upheaval. Bulla was sensitive child, though. She felt intensely angry when others were wronged, and she expected justice. While noble, the girl hadn't grasped that certain situations would never be black and white. Such was the case with Bulma's choices, and Vegeta had to explain the nuances carefully to his daughter.

He had been a brutal killer once. Many of the dead would never receive the justice others would expect. He pondered this until Bulla stopped crying. She rested on his back as they flew to a park near the hospital.

"Remember when I asked you to always come to me? Can you tell me why you waited? I have never seen you this angry before. I understand it, but I am also your father. I am here to help."

Bulla jumped from his back as they landed. "Because you need help more than I do."

"Hm." Vegata tapped his chin. "Why do you think that?"

"You and mommy were arguing more before this happened, and it seemed like you were always backing down. It wasn't how you guys normally argue, like a weird married couple. I could tell. I see now that she took advantage of you."

Vegeta nodded in the direction of the playground. He stood behind while she positioned herself in a swing. "I think…you should wait to pass judgment on others. It's hard. I have struggled with it my entire life. It would be dishonest to say that I haven't questioned your mother's reasoning and sincerity - and quite angrily - but I am no saint either, Bulla. Far from it. One must train to respond thoughtfully in the moment. Do your best. I haven't done well _at all_ lately, but at least I'm aware of it. She is still my wife and your mother."

Bulla reached for his hand. "I want to see my baby brother. Can we do that first?"

"Of course."

* * *

Iris felt horrible - and trapped. Knowing what she had done for Gohan, being alone in a hospital bed was terrifying. He could do anything. She wanted to leave immediately.

"Myra, get my…get my things. I'm feeling better. Take me home."

"Are you crazy? You won't be able to work for weeks, Iris. _Your breathing stopped_. This is serious."

Iris fell back onto her pillows. "No, no," she protested, grabbing the bed's guardrail. "You…you don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"I'm so tired." Iris fought to stay conscious, but her exhaustion won the battle. "I'm so… tired. Stay…with me. Please."

"Okay, dear. Okay." Myra checked her cousin's patient chart. The medication list didn't appear abnormal, but Iris's initial reaction almost seemed like an anxiety attack.

Instead of returning to the research lab, she opened her computer tablet and sat down to work. The attending physician told her earlier that Bulma had been startled while still sedated, which led to the accident, but said nothing more beyond that. Iris was bound by a legal non-disclosure agreement not to discuss the Briefs' health care with anyone outside of the private medical team, and had been for years. Myra understood why. Privacy was crucial for an important family like Bulma's, but the young woman also felt angry. Something strange happened.

 _She felt it_.

Gohan leaned against the nurses' station near Iris's room, casually jiggling loose in his pocket. Myra hadn't seen him, although he would have been fine regardless. Iris knew the rules, and the nurse was frightened enough to believe that he was capable of murdering her.

He was fully capable. He hadn't finished with her yet, though. He and Kaleb. He strode down the hall when his phone beeped, debating on whether to answer it.

"Dr. Son here."

"Hey there, buddy. It's Krillin. Did you lose my phone number or something?"

"You would never let me, master," Gohan said, pretending to joke with him.

"Have you seen Piccolo?"

* * *

 **Notes:** **Hello! So this chapter was a little longer. The summary of your questions from the last chapter focus on whether Vegeta will continue to recognize and support the woman he loves. Well, it's a yes and no deal, as you may have figured out, and that should become clear later.**

 **Also, brainwashing Bulma completely wouldn't serve Gohan's higher goals. Now that she's awake, the question is how long will it take for them to meet again.**

 **Thank you for supporting my work. Please take a moment to leave a comment, because I love hearing from you. I know it's taken longer sometimes to post new chapters. To be honest, this is the hardest story I've written. I want everyone to enjoy it. Cheers!**


	14. Nightingales

**Recap: Bulma readjusts to life outside of the hospital, testing Vegeta's emotional boundaries. Gohan waits patiently to reunite with her, while his father Goku and friend Krillin share concerns about all of their relationships.**

* * *

Goku and Krillin sat together on the floor in Orin Temple. Krillin was pleased that the monks, who welcomed them kindly, were more service-minded than when he first trained there as a boy. The two meditated in lotus position off-and-on for hours, showing their gratitude later by helping their hosts clean the monastery's colorful, fabric-swathed interior.

It felt like old times for the childhood chums, but they lived in the present. Krillin understood this more than some other friends, and even his deceased wife, Eighteen. He saw the world as it was, especially after his biologically engineered spouse, once considered nearly invincible, died unexpectedly. He, Gohan, and Vegeta had wives whose love breathed life into them. And, like them, he felt suffocated emotionally when his wife suffered, but, eventually, he used his spiritualist training to reject dwelling on "how things should be." He also had to set a good example for his daughter, Marron.

Five months had passed since Bulma and Sorrel left the hospital, and all news came to Goku through Krillin, who had continued visiting. He stopped by less, though, because Bulma had been aloof. Vegeta didn't explain her behavior. Instead, when she wasn't around, the prince allowed liberal time with their baby. This was the proud man's silent apology and thanks, especially since Sorrel wasn't completely well. Krillin felt honored to have his trust and respect, recognizing that Vegeta felt likewise. No need to say it.

Krilln also suspected that his friends' marital relationship had become tense again. No one had seen Bulma up-close beyond a handful of trusted comrades, including Chi Chi, Hercule, and old boyfriend Yamcha. All tried hard, and lovingly, to accept her new appearance. Bulma seemed unaware of their discomfort, or rebelliously ignored it. Among themselves, they expressed uneasiness to Tights about the shockwaves that would be unleashed once Bulma appeared in public.

Goku pawed through his disorderly heap black-olive hair and stretched. "No shock that Vegeta still won't explain what's happening with her. Nope, no shock there at all."

Krillin lit another incense stick, blowing a tiny billow of rose-scented smoke. "I know. I know," he said somberly. "That's just who he is. To be fair, the guy has been through hell on Earth."

" _Tch_. He's been to the real one, too." They glanced at each other until Goku grinned. "Twice."

"Way too soon for that joke," Krillin said, punching his shoulder. "Too soon, man, especially in the temple." He chuckled. "You almost sound like Vegeta."

"I do sound like him, don't I?" Goku paused, listening to the winter winds howl outside. "Well, I need something to laugh about since my son shut me out. I suppose Vegeta would be okay with me finally visiting now. From what you're telling me, though, maybe Bulma wouldn't."

Vegeta probably wouldn't want Goku to visit either, Krillin thought, regardless of Bulma's desires. He had hoped the meditation would have helped his friend regain clarity and find comfort.

"Hey, man. I… talked with Gohan, you know, right before Bulma left the hospital. I asked about Piccolo."

"And you're just now telling me?" Goku's asked, attempting to withhold his anger. "Why is _everyone_ keeping secrets? We've been through too much together. Vegeta and I…" He looked down, avoiding Krillin's gaze. "Whether he likes it or not, he still needs friends to get through this. My son needs us too."

Krillin sighed. "Goku, look, we're different. I know your instinct is to jump in to make everything right, but in this case it's just unwise. I love Bulma too, but the only thing we can do is let this play out. Hercule has continued offering help, also, since Pan and Bulla are close. At least Vegeta accepts that much, along with my support."

Goku knew Vegeta didn't hate him. They _were_ friends despite their lifelong warriors' rivalry. Krillin, ever wise and compassionate, understood that the prince was, in a way, protecting his fellow Saiyan. As fathers who loved their families, Vegeta had to put distance between them until Gohan and Bulma's actions were addressed. Everyone knew Goku would never give up on his first-born son, understandably, no matter how terribly Gohan behaved – not as long as he felt guilty.

Krillin joined Goku to observe the craggy, shrub-lined mountain pathway leading to the temple. They would leave the same way they came, walking silently along the trail through the chilled air.

"Well, what did my son say, Krillin?"

"He saw Piccolo one night, but they haven't spoken since. I mean, yeah, we know the guy is reclusive, but he always keeps promises, you know? My students would have benefited from his training, but that concerns me less. You're the one who saw Dende recently. What has he told you?"

Goku turned around. "Piccolo said he was traveling to Andromeda Galaxy, to New Namek, using teleportation. Dende doesn't seem very concerned about his absence – yet. Also, I already knew about Gohan. I asked Piccolo to reach out, which I guess happened before he left Earth."

"Maybe a visit to New Namek is in order," Krillin said, seating himself. "Can't hurt to check on him."

Goku looked over the forest again. "Maybe so, my friend."

* * *

Many questions went unanswered - especially that penetrating _look_ in Gohan's eyes. What caused it? Vegeta had seen it before, long ago, but the rest of the memory escaped him. He still didn't regret his response at the hospital. Before her seizure, Bulma had been so _certain_ about her achievement. No doubt Gohan felt similarly or else he wouldn't have risked his welfare and hard-won reputation. They had become evangelists for their cause long before knowing what the outcome would be, good or bad.

Indeed, Vegeta had been considering priorities before Bulma's pregnancy. Maybe she had been somewhat right: Maybe he craved a more transformative future, like her, but what did that mean? His body had surpassed the power levels he recklessly sought through demonic possession, as well as his mental fortitude, and yet... and yet…

The prince pushed these doubtful, intrusive thoughts aside – these signs of weakness, he called them. The trauma of the past months ran deeper than he consciously realized. He found himself observing his children often. They filled him with more pride than any battle, banishing the other intrusions to an abyss, thankfully.

Bulma looked in on Sorrel, who was whimpering. "Hungry again?" His tiny face scrunched into a scowl, nose twitching with displeasure, while his mother opened her shirt to breastfeed. "Amazing. You look just like your papa when you do that."

"Is that so bad?" Vegeta asked, walking next to her. "You still created three brats with me." Sorrel, whose eyes lit up, stopped feeding. He kicked shakily and cooed, obviously pleased to see his father, who didn't crack a smile. Vegeta held out his finger, testing the baby's grip.

Bulma tried to hide her annoyance. The prince had seen Sorrel consistently when she was comatose. Of course the baby would respond this way. "Well, it looks like he's forgotten about eating," she said softly. "Want to hold him?"

"No." Vegeta shook his head. "I'm a distraction. Feed him. I'll return later to help him exercise. You know where I'll be."

Bulma mustered a thin smile. "The rose garden?"

Vegeta stopped, keeping his back to her. "Maybe after I finish training. You are… welcome to join me." He would have taken the baby then, gladly, but sensed Bulma's unhappiness. She was becoming more restless each day. They had their disagreements, which Vegeta would stop cold before frustrations escalated. Keeping the peace was imperative. Sorrel needed everyone's support in particular. His muscles and motor skills remained weak, and, like Bulma, he was still prone to having seizures. His siblings were enthusiastic helpers, naturally, doing whatever they could between their studies at home. Bulla was less distant from her mother, but tension between them lingered.

Vegeta set limits on all arguments after they had a huge blowout – the biggest one since Bulma returned home. Surprisingly, he had suggested that Bulma invite her friends over more often to lift her spirits. He would spend time elsewhere, avoiding the strains of socializing more than he wanted to. His wife couldn't believe his nerve - and said so quite angrily:

 _"Maybe I would have been better off comatose a few more months! You're running off to 'work' while I get to play lonely housewife. Hell, no!"_

 _Vegeta almost crushed a glass in his hands. "You have no right – none – to chastise me about a damn thing, woman. I have fought hard not to feel sorry for myself throughout this ordeal with you, and it hasn't been easy. Try it sometime, because I won't be your whipping boy. Not today."_

 _"I know what this is about." Bulma pinched the bridge of her nose. " I know what this is about. You blame Gohan and me for Sorrel's condition. We don't know the full story yet, Vegeta. Give Tights a chance to…"_

 _"Don't go there with me, Bulma Brief, and don't bring that asshole into it!" Vegeta snapped. His voice reduced to a semi-growl. "Gohan is fortunate that I haven't murdered him, as I threatened to, because you are still alive. Do you want to me to say I'm trying hard not to blame you for Sorrel's condition? You're my wife! Look at yourself! What do you expect me to do? Look at yourself! Why are you pushing me like this? Can you try to show a little respect?"_

 _Bulma stepped backward unsteadily, as if the ground had quaked beneath them."I just... thought things would be different. It's been months now. Does my change offend you that much, now that I'm past my medical crisis? You've kissed me and held me, and helped so much with the baby, but we haven't had sex once since I've been home. We can find our way back to each other. Tights told me how attentive you really were while I was in the hospital."_

 _"I was," Vegeta replied, "and I was grateful to see your eyes open, and to hear your voice again. But, yes, I still need to get my mind straight. You owe me that. Focus less on my struggles and more on our baby. Don't forget who I am. My former life is a graveyard of horrors that almost destroyed me. However frustrated I am with you, I know you aren't trying to do that."_

 _Bulma stared at him. "I want to go back to work, full time."_

 _"I know you do." Vegeta crossed his arms defensively. "Do you expect me to be furious again? What you got just now is my limit for today. Try again next week."_

 _"You don't trust me." She walked closer, touching his chest. "I need you. We need each other."_

 _Vegeta clutched her wrist, closing his eyes. "Be patient." For months he desperately wanted to see her open hers, and now his mind roiled with those nagging doubts. What more would she ask from him?_

 _Bulma pressed harder into his body until their hearts raced. She smelled of bergamot and roses and musk. He hadn't noticed that before. Their hands ran instinctively up and down each other's backs. Her fingertips danced over Vegeta's spinal column, his deltoid muscles and triceps. His angel, his woman, his friend, his lover kissed him like a wild horse barreling through the countryside. He felt a pulsating warmth arise between his legs. A soft moan crossed his flushed lips as she stroked his groin. He lifted her higher to kiss again, until his wife's soft tongue cascaded down the side of his neck._

 _"Oh god." Vegeta panted harder. "I can't…"_

 _"Yes, you can," Bulma pleaded, until his eyes finally met hers. "Look at me." Her tail encircled his legs. "See. You're still my prince. You're still my prince. Make love to me."_

 _Then the baby monitor went off. Sorrel was crying._

 _The couple quickly released each other, looking at the hallway. Vegeta's guarded posture re-emerged. His eyes fixed on Bulma until she moved away. Then he left to see their son without another word._ _She quietly followed behind._

* * *

Bulma consoled herself, reaffirming her toughness despite everyone else's worries. Her quality of life had improved: no more steroids, less sleep-inducing medication, and a growing power within. Vegeta felt it, and they had to discuss it eventually. She wished her friends did a better job empathizing with her. That's why she was less enthusiastic about seeing them. Her baby needed more therapy, her daughter was avoiding her, while Vegeta was perpetually preoccupied. Tights tried to be the family's secret weapon, attempting to convince Bulma to take things slow, but five months at their estate now felt like five years. Sometimes she and Vegeta sneaked out together, traveling to the nature preserve and a farm they owned. She had been grateful that he cared enough do that.

But she still needed Gohan. He was best equipped monitor her physical condition regularly, not Tights. Convincing Vegeta might be next to impossible right then, but Bulma felt confident that she could sway him over time - especially once they made love. Her dreams were rife with visions of their ascendance together. Her post-seizure mind had wandered between poles occasionally, leaving her with strange compulsions. Sometimes she felt more selfish. Her subconscious mind stamped more imprints for decoding while she was awake. Many were confusing. Others aroused her as if she had taken a psychoactive drug, leaving her less inhibited and mildly euphoric. None of these reactions put her infant son in harm's way, she believed. She could never hurt Sorrel – not ever – but telling Vegeta was out of the question.

"Hello, Cress. I wondered how long it would take to hear from you. How are the nightingales?"

Bulma's body instantly relaxed. Her thoughts seemed to float. She had enough presence of mind to realize something was off as she responded to Gohan's question, but she didn't want to regain control. There had been too much stress adjusting to being at home. His silken voice soothed the frustration of being misunderstood by everyone. Everyone except for him.

Bulma took a deep breath, leaning back comfortably into her recliner while Sorrel breastfed. "I…am fine. The birds… the birds are lovely, Kaleb."

Gohan, seated in his office, nodded with satisfaction. The hypnotic device worked perfectly on her. "I'm sure they are. That's great to hear. I take it that your husband isn't around."

"He's out with our daughter.

"So when will we meet?"

Bulma shook her head. Her eyes felt so heavy. "I _am_ returning to work soon. I need time. Vegeta, Sorrel, my baby…"

"You _need_ to make your debut, Cress," Gohan said gently. "Stop hiding. Tell everyone your new name soon, and find a way to see me. You can tell people just enough truth to make them think that you're not hiding anything. That's how this works. I shouldn't have to remind you."

"Yes, Kaleb."

"Good. We have work to do. Remember, Vegeta needs you as much as I do. He won't leave. You know that – and he won't kill me, not with you to convince him otherwise. How is Sorrel?"

"I'm breastfeeding. He's not growing fast enough. Not like Trunks and Bulla. Muscle weakness and movement issues. We're trying to…"

Gohan shut off his office light. "I might have something to help. We'll figure it out, okay? Maybe I can pass information to Tights through another person. We'll be in touch. Goodbye now. I need to check on my new nightingales. I've loved them ever since you gave me those first two, when I was younger."

"Yes, the birds are lovely." Feeling somewhat light-headed, Bulma rubbed her eyes after the call ended. She looked down and smiled. "Your papa will be home soon, baby boy. He'll be happy to see you."

* * *

 **Notes: Hi, everyone. So there's a lot going on here, and I appreciate your comments. I'm seeing more interest in Gohan's "Jekyll-Hyde persona." (That's what I'll call it for now.) Apparently he's bugging the heck out of some of you. I am happy about that, actually! I began this story with the premise that Gohan was just as susceptible to developing a personality disorder as anyone else, using DBZ's Cell Games as starting point. Check out those fights again, especially the one where he didn't kill Cell outright when he could have - when Goku practically screamed for him to. Gohan was in different psychological dimension.**

 **The bottom half of chapter nine also touched on other triggers for his behavior. Look at the person he's trying to live vicariously through: Vegeta, of all people. Videl's death just tipped him over the edge. He's beyond the point of likability now, but I still feel badly for him when I consider the total person.**

 **Thanks again for sharing your thoughts!**


	15. Fine

**Recap: Gohan's controlling behavior casts a wider net between his family and the Briefs. Bulma, who plans to return to work, struggles with blurred lines between reality and illusion and identity. There are consequences, but which ones are appropriate?**

 **Warning/Trigger Alert: There is a scene in the Bulma and Vegeta section that involves drugging and the fallout from it.**

* * *

Hercule's massive cheeks filled with inhaled air, driven by nervousness and frustration. Being a well-meaning, loving grandfather blinded his better judgment at times. This was one of those moments. Gohan would be gone for the weekend through the following Tuesday, telling them he wouldn't be in contact to focus on work. He usually didn't. Soon after, Hercule told Pan he would convince Vegeta to allow Bulla to travel with them - which he did, shockingly. It would be his special surprise for the girls, and Vegeta would know where they were. Hercule decided against telling Gohan until later.

"His girls" had been outside playing on the grounds of his vacation home. Bulla and Pan hurled snowballs like rapid gunfire as they flew around each other like honeybees. Saiyans - that's what they were to their core, Hercule thought, despite having extraordinary human mothers. Most kids would've been terrified of being pummeled by large, compacted ice missiles, but not these two. The girls hadn't fully grasped the depths of their strength like the other strongmen in their lives. They would soon enough. Both might follow in their footsteps as adults, protecting Earth or a forgotten planet, willingly risking their lives. Hercule took solace knowing that he would probably be dead before seeing that.

He had been grateful that the girls were allowed to be kids, despite their high intelligence and, of course, emerging powers. Gohan's upbringing had been radically different, and Hercule never forgot that. He hesitated criticizing his son-in-law for that reason sometimes, having witnessed Gohan's power from childhood. Back then, the magnitude was like none other. Earth was diverse, to be sure, and rife with powerful fighters with special talents, but this was radically different.

Child Goku had been the happy, curious and supremely determined fighter despite losing a loving guardian early in his life. Gohan, however, never truly had a childhood – not like Goten or Trunks did. Earth and the universe were inundated with terrible threats back then, and Gohan fought through all like a grown man, including some battles Hercule hadn't learned of until much later. His innocence had been ripped off like a blood-dried bandage. Vegeta and Goku would plainly say that was necessary back then.

He stood at the picture window overlooking the grounds below, feeling ambivalent as the girls played.

Bulla and Pan sized-up their lopsided snowman. The tree branches used for the arms and nose were too heavy. Shrugging, they abandoned the effort. There were more important concerns, such as whether to drink hot chocolate with marshmallows.

"See, I told you," Pan said, pointing and laughing. "I'm sure auntie Bulma would make us build it again."

Bulla threw a handful of snow back. "I don't want to talk about mommy. That's the rule."

"Well, I'm sick of your rules," Pan replied, folding her arms. "It's been like this since she's been home. You don't trust me anymore? I'm your best friend. You can't be mad at your mom forever, either."

Bulla rolled her eyes. "Really, Pan? Like you tell me stuff about _your father?_ Last time I checked, you don't say much. You're still mad at him too. I don't ever bug you about that."

"I'm not mad as much as I was before, I guess. He's also lonely and really misses my mom. That's why he spends so much time working. It's hurt my feelings, but my grandfathers helped me understand better. Uncle Goten and grandma Chi-Chi help too."

Bulla yanked a branch from the snowman, breaking it in half. "Maybe I don't say much about home because, well, I don't want us to argue like we were about to do just now. Mr. Satan seems to be the only one who isn't a total mess. Even my papa is… _"_

"What _about_ uncle Vegeta?"

Bulla propped her arms behind her head. "My papa is the strongest, smartest man I know. I want to be just like him when I grow up. I want to fight and protect people. He may not be the nicest person all of the time, but he is a good man and he loved mommy as she was. I'm not so much mad at her being Saiyan now, you know? I guess that can't be changed now. I'm still mad that she seemed to not care about how he would feel. She hasn't said 'I'm sorry,' to any of us."

Pan poured hot chocolate into a cup, handing it to her. "What Bulma and my dad did caused a lot of trouble for everyone, but grandpa Goku tells me to be careful about how I judge others. Vegeta hasn't left home, and your whole family is caring for Sorrel, so maybe focus on that. That's good."

Their faced each other, holding hands, until they were caught off guard. Smiles dissolved, replaced by confusion and nervousness. Gohan towered above, dressed in a black, double-breasted wool coat and jeans, along with leather gloves. His daughter had noticed several style upgrades recently. He looked handsome, but she wondered why he made them.

"Yes, that is good, girls. My father is right. I am proud of you both – and Bulla, I'm sure your father will be pleased that you want to follow in his footsteps. That said, you both could do a better job of sensing others with power like yours. I raised my ki on purpose before stopping here. "

Arms akimbo, Pan stood in front of Bulla. "Dad, what… what are you doing here? How could you hear us? How did you know we were here?"

"Because I made an effort to," Gohan said, "and does it really matter? I'm your father, and I am curious about why no one told me about this trip."

"Did you really have to do this?" Pan protested. "I mean, there's so much going on."

Gohan looked over his daughter's head. Bulla's fists were closed, and, although her face was blank, her semi-lowered eyes betrayed her fright. He wondered what Vegeta and Trunks had taught her about fighting when backed into a corner – literally and figuratively. Terrified children could be a pain to calm down. He had to re-establish enough trust to keep Bulla from bolting like a frightened horse.

He looked over his shoulder. "Well, girls, so far we're the only ones who know I'm here."

"I won't lie to papa," Bulla said softly. Her father probably be disappointed seeing her now, she thought. Watching Gohan's reactions was appropriate, but giving into fear wasn't. Vegeta didn't hold back drilling her on these lessons while sparring. Gohan wouldn't dare to touch her, though –regardless of whether he cared for her - knowing that her father would go ballistic.

Gohan gave her a warm, fatherly smile. "I'm not asking you to, young lady."

"Then you're asking to do the same thing grandpa Hercule did with me – to not say anything. That's just as dishonest." Pan disliked seeing Bulla uncomfortable. Her father had to stop dragging this out.

Gohan nodded in agreement. "It is, I suppose, but of the two fathers you're dealing with, which person's reaction worries you more, now that I'm standing here?"

The girls fidgeted, knowing the obvious answer. Bulla hated that he was right. However understanding Vegeta could be with her, which he usually was, his temper was much shorter than she had ever witnessed. Trunks didn't seem as bothered. Maybe he was faking so she wouldn't be upset.

Gohan bent down to their level, looking into their eyes. "Hmm. Your silence tells me what I need to know. Let's go inside. I need to speak with Hercule."

Pan tugged his coat gently, twisting the fabric between her thumbs. "He's not feeling well today. Don't be too hard on him."

"Your grandfather can take care of himself, sweetie. Trust me. Also, Bulla, do you want to go home? I want you to feel comfortable. We can have someone pick you up. I'm returning to work, though, not staying here."

Pan looked over. "Dad is right. Do whatever you want. I'll be fine. We can stay at your house another time, maybe?"

"I'm not leaving," Bulla said calmly. "We were having fun."

"Very good," Gohan said.

Ignoring his approval, Pan stepped closer. "Bulla, what if uncle Vegeta asks about…"

"I said I won't lie," she replied, looking at Gohan, "but I know what I can say so papa won't be angry." She reached for Pan's hand. "You're just checking to see if we're safe, Dr. Son. I'm okay - really."

"You can still call me Gohan," he said, bowing halfway. "Now run inside. I want to enjoy the snow a bit longer." The girls were strong-willed, but children their age usually wanted to please adults they love and respect. Manipulating that desire for closeness and recognition had been easy for him. Trunks would be harder to sway when time came because he was near full adulthood, more or less. Bulma would be the linchpin for that outcome too. The smartphone ringer pushed this musing aside, annoyingly.

" _What?_ "

"So, uh, well, uh, aren't you coming inside, Gohan?"

"Do you _want_ me inside, Hercule? That wasn't the plan before, obviously."

Hercule waved from the window. "Oh, don't be like that, son. I only wanted the girls to have a little fun without worrying about us adults. They need time to themselves. Frankly, you and Vegeta can be rather… intense."

Gohan hovered in the air over the balcony. "Glad you just figured that out. I'm leaving, but don't do this again. Pan is still my kid, and I have right to know where she is. Not once have I stuck around when Trunks takes _my child_ from _my home_ to see Bulla. Think about that. I'm persona non grata in my home!"

"Come on, Gohan. You're being unfair."

"Unfair? _This isn't about unfair._ Imagine the outcome if Vegeta decided to visit on a whim, just like me? Having all hell break loose isn't how I want to spend my weekend."

Hercule finally had enough. He looked back, lowering his voice. " _Then leave_ , _Gohan_. _Leave now,_ and stop being a selfish jackass. You could have called first, but you came _anyway_. You knew damn well what the risks were. Worse, that sweet child must face her _father_ and _mother_ later, who may question her. I won't say anything now, but you can bet your ass that I won't lie if they ask me about you."

Gohan released a quiet grunt. "Fine." His head throbbed as more anger swelled inside. Fortunately, he expected to see Bulma soon. Now they could speak the same language.

* * *

"Yes, this is what I'll do."

It was 5 a.m. Bulma had been thinking out loud and sipping coffee, while Vegeta was sleeping late. She had barely slept more than a few hours each night for a week. But she hadn't felt tired, not even when they tended to Sorrel at night. She felt giddy and electrified. It may have been Sunday morning, but the time had come. She had to return to the lab. Her body was healed and ready to work. Within a month or two she wanted to roam freely around Capsule's headquarters. That was her expectation.

She would arrange a meeting with reporters from the big television stations and newspapers first, spinning her story of scientific progress into an amazing tale for the public and her employees. Her family's contribution to society would be revealed in its entirety. They were all Saiyans!

Her family would know beforehand to prepare themselves. Vegeta was already a lone wolf, so he'd have no problem avoiding scrutiny. She would have think harder about how the kids would face their peers. She had been ready to jump out of her skin earlier that week. The strength she felt inside. So _this_ is how it felt for them all. Her mind jumped to training.

She tapped her feet. "Well, I could take longer so Trunks and Vegeta could help me learn - or maybe Goku." She was a fast learner, right? Her photographic memory captured their fighting styles over years, when they weren't battling at speeds beyond what untrained human eyes could observe easily.

But she wasn't human anymore.

She wasn't, and no more tests were needed to prove it. Tights confirmed that her physiology basically matched the others. Bulma ignored her sister's warnings about other concerns. She already knew of enough from working with Kaleb. She had lived through the worst of it! That should mean something.

Maybe she could make her public announcement and delay full-time duties at Capsule another year to learn. Maybe even two. She had to stay connected with Kaleb, though. That was non-negotiable.

She couldn't stop these racing thoughts. She smiled and held out her hand, firing a small shot through a canister outside of the kitchen window. It wasn't much, but the move worked well, she thought.

Vegeta rushed downstairs, amazed that Bulma's power had increased so quickly. She managed to control her ki spike then, but he was furious. How could she use it inside of their home? The result could have been disastrous. Her body could go haywire at any time. There were too many unknowns.

She greeted him with a wide, satisfied smile. "How does it feel to you?"

Vegeta's eyes zoomed across all four quadrants of her body. His facial expression was one of absolute stoicism. "So you're playing games now."

Bulma's tail swished from side to side. She grinned pleasantly, but apparently she had forgotten momentarily that Vegeta had a tail once too. He observed the movement: irritability – a whole hell of a lot of it. She had much to learn about her new body, he thought.

"I'm not, Vegeta. I want to learn to be disciplined and focused in _your way_. I want you to teach me."

" _Do you now_?" he said skeptically. Of all people, he thought Bulma understood the pitfalls of overconfidence without having the skills to back it up. "Okay then. Your first lesson is you're doing a shitty job of exercising discipline. That playful, irresponsible little power spike proves it. You've shown your hand to a seasoned warrior without forethought. If you were one of my students, I wouldn't be as forgiving as I am now."

"My, how self-righteous of you, Prince Vegeta. You must accept sometime. I refuse to argue anymore. You can't keep fighting me each step along the way. We are soul mates. There is no competition."

Vegeta turned away. "I want my wife back."

" _I am your wife, damn it!"_ Bulma ran in front of him, waving her arms. "I am your wife. I'm still beautiful and intelligent and your best friend. Remember me?" She pounded her chest. "I remember the first time I held you. I remember the day I realized I was in love with you. I remember my soul caving in after learning that you committed _suicide_ to save us."

"You have always been beautiful to me, Bulma, even when I could not stand you after I came to Earth."

Bulma stepped back, dropping her head. "God, you can be…"

"Such an asshole," Vegeta said, smirking. "Yes, I know."

Bulma paused and then erupted with laughter. Vegeta's eyes softened watching her. She could laugh at just about anything when she wasn't badgering others to submit to her will.

She held out her left hand. "Let's be normal for a bit, hmm? Have chai with me. It's your favorite." Vegeta stared at her wedding ring.

" _I know_ _that_ , _Bulma_ …"

"Please? I'll bring it upstairs. It's still early. You aren't training until later. I know that."

Vegeta finally took her hand. "Fine." He fingered through her hair and nodded.

Bulma exhaled as he left, pulling a tiny vial filled with white powder from her pocket. Vegeta would be fine. He had been more tired than usual, she thought, so this would help him feel better. It would be the first and last time. She just needed lots more time to get things done. Trunks would watch Sorrel. She would tell him that she would be in the compound for a while and didn't want to be disturbed. She could call later. She just couldn't have Vegeta asking more questions after the stunt she pulled.

After they finished their beverages, Bulma climbed on her knees behind Vegeta on the bed, rubbing his rock-hard shoulders until he leaned back. There had been music playing in the background, and Bulma's light touches felt like nectar pouring through his limbs. He felt happy, warm and in love with the most wonderful woman in the universe. He was aroused by the texture of her clothing rubbing against him. Bulma looked down, pushing a finger between his lips. His eyes were dilated. He was ready. She leaned over to kiss him until he pulled her in front, burying his head into her chest.

"I… missed… you," he whispered, pushing his pulsating hardness deep inside of her. "I missed you."

Bulma could barely moan. That's how good it felt. Afterward, she stroked Vegeta's head while he slept. His slumber was deep, and he wouldn't awaken fully for hours. Seeing him that way aroused her just as much as their active lovemaking did earlier. The drug she gave him released his pent up frustrations, she believed, and she was overwhelmed by the erotic urge to have him again before leaving. So she did.

She kissed his neck from the back and fondled him until his body shuddered. His reaction time was slow, and his touches unsteady, but she liked that too. Her hands moved across buttocks, which she caressed until sinking below the bedsheets to perform fellatio. Vegeta moved and gasped through it all – even crying out her name - but he didn't wake up. She stopped before he climaxed, sliding back up to lick his lips and stroke his penis again. She held him until he finally reached his peak and came all over her legs.

"You needed this," she said in his ear, biting her lips. "You'll feel much better when you wake up later."

Bulma didn't feel like she had taken advantage of her husband in the moment. It just felt good. Sure, they had drunk sex together before, but each _agreed_ that they could "play around," because the other person would likely wake up for even better sex later. All of it was consensual.

Then the moment passed. She covered her mouth as her eyes widened. _What had she done?_ Was she imagining things? She had used her husband's body sexually without his full awareness or permission. Only one word defined her actions – a terrible one. The drug, created by her father, was set aside to use on any Saiyan who went berserk – if anyone got close enough to dispense it without being cremated. Bulma hadn't given Vegeta anywhere near a full dose. He would have been knocked out for days.

 _Who was that person?_ She covered her eyes until her mind stopped spinning. Did this really just happen? She would never, ever do it again. She hadn't planned to take it this far. This was beyond horrible, and she didn't deserve to cry over it. She still had to see Kaleb, though. She still had to see him. His voice replayed in her head like a broken record. She had to destroy Vegeta's hesitance about their relationship and achieving his destiny.

But she just betrayed his trust in the worst way, more so than ever, and without his knowledge. She retrieved her clothing and stumbled out of the room, gasping for air.

"I'm so sorry, Vegeta. I'm so sorry."

* * *

"Are you all right, Cress?"

Feeling cold, Bulma rubbed her arms. "I'm okay."

"Very good," Gohan said, pulling out chair. "Have a seat. How are the nightingales?"

"They're lovely." Bulma rubbed her temples. Her subconscious mind was trying to make a connection. It felt good when Gohan said the word, but the effect was clouding her judgement more. She would sink into a hole and re-emerge more uninhibited than before.

Gohan frowned. The post-hypnotic suggestions had worked out well for a while, he thought, but something wasn't right with her. Something far different. "Are you sure you're okay? Let me get some water."

"I don't _want_ any water." Bulma looked up at him, stone-faced. "Let's get one thing straight. _I call the shots on securing my husband's agreement - not you_."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Gohan said. "What is this really about? What did you do?"

Bulma waved him off. "You may think you know my husband well, Kaleb, but you don't know one-eighth of what I do. I don't need any more suggestions from you. Do your job, and I'll do mine."

Gohan couldn't see Bulma's aggressiveness resulting from anything he'd done to her - maybe. Perhaps she was hyper-hormonal. She had to be tested again, nonetheless. Whatever it was affecting her couldn't continue. Worse case would be dragging Tights in quietly to help. He disliked the idea, but he would do it if necessary. Bulma couldn't self-destruct. Not on his watch. Not this time. They had come too far.

"Okay, I understand, Cress. Did something happen with Vegeta or Sorrel earlier? You seem agitated."

"No." She shook her head. "They're both fine. Let's just go."

"As you wish."

* * *

 **Notes: Essentially Gohan has two large problems. First, are others conspiring against him? Second, can he keep Bulma on track? He's not worried about the first problem as much, to be honest. Vegeta hasn't killed him yet, so that's enough for his peace of mind. Goku may factor into this prominently later. I also suspect some of you are wondering (maybe angrily) how Bulma could do those things to Vegeta. _It's just not like her._ Maybe not, but how much of her thoughts and reactions are grounded in reality? Did she do everything she thought she did or only some of it? Also, Piccolo may be in cold storage for now, but he hasn't disappeared. **


	16. Losing Track of Time

**Recap: Bulma is reeling from her perceived transgressions against Vegeta. Gohan may have to go it alone with his scientific and political plans. Goku is on the hunt, while an imprisoned Piccolo patiently listens to the activities around him.**

* * *

Gohan had experienced much worse, obviously. Multiple near-death experiences throughout one's life were expert teachers of resilience. He wouldn't allow this development with Bulma to rattle him. Possible psychosis was nothing to play with, though. He had been calculating from the moment they began working together on the experiments, but even he had his limits. He refused to take blame for Bulma's current condition _yet_ , although his other mental manipulation techniques may have worsened a deeper psychological problem that had long been there. Regardless of their greater goals, he had never intended to hurt her.

That's what he made himself believe.

He wouldn't accept Vegeta's or Goku's accusations that helping Bulma was reckless and disregarded the potentially harmful outcomes. He had tried control them within the range of his experience – to prevent the worst possible outcomes. Bulma already wanted a closer connection with her husband. He just supported her acceptance that she wanted far beyond that, and that Vegeta would eventually follow along. She didn't have to be ashamed. No matter how much Vegeta suppressed his true nature, Gohan knew that it was a matter of time that Bulma's influence would bear fruit.

That's what he made himself believe.

Bulma sat hunched on the examination table, waiting for Gohan to draw blood. They were walking through most of the standard regimen: checking vital signs, examining her eyes and reflexes. Gohan hesitated on doing a basic MRI brain scan this time, preferring to have other experienced professionals examine her. He had left the room earlier to quietly observe her mannerisms. She was murmuring – perseverating. His fine-tuned Saiyan hearing processed the message: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His eyes moved from the old-fashioned blood pressure cuff encircling Bulma's arm to her mildly shaking hands. He pressed a stuffed cat between her fingers to still them, much like he did lovingly when Pan was younger. Bulma looked down, appreciating how soft the child's toy felt.

"We can't keep secrets, you know, Cress."

"That's bullshit," she said. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "You don't tell me everything in your life."

"Give me your right arm." Gohan tapped on her vein, where he inserted a needle to draw blood. "Okay, let me rephrase that. We can't keep secrets about where we go from here. So let's try again. Tell me what happened before you arrived. You risk bringing attention to yourself if there's a problem we can fix now." Bulma refused to make eye contact until Gohan lifted her chin. "What? What are you ashamed of?"

Bulma sighed as he stared into her eyes, waiting patiently for an answer. His touch felt gentle, comforting her much like Vegeta had many times. She looked away, putting the toy aside to hold Gohan's hand. "Something is wrong with me, Kaleb. I was on top of the world this morning at home, and then I crashed – hard."

"Like what? Did you hurt someone?"

Bulma closed her eyes. "I hurt him." Her body began to rock.

"You _hurt_ , Vegeta?" He swallowed, steadying himself. "Or did you hurt one of the boys?"

"No! Who else, Kaleb? I keep hurting husband. I keep hurting Vegeta. He doesn't deserve any of this. I only wanted… I only wanted…"

"Stop right there," Gohan said softly. "Whatever it is that you think you did, I'd advise you to question whether it really happened."

"Excuse me?" Despite sounding surprised, Bulma understood what Gohan meant, and he was likely correct. He figured out much quicker than she was willing to admit the problem to herself.

"You aren't a physician like me, but I know you're probably aware of what this is," he said, "but we're still guessing. You need a complete neurological evaluation again to confirm. How long have you had these symptoms?"

Bulma told him enough, saying how they began weeks before her grand mal seizure, and taking care to avoid telling him about drugging Vegeta and what she did afterward. She feared that she would, though, hoping that her mind wouldn't tear down a barrier she didn't want shattered. How could everything go downhill this quickly? Her kids. Her husband. Vegeta was right. Maybe she had been a fool.

No, she refused to believe that yet. However, she was making more poor decisions, ones that a woman of her vast talents shouldn't.

Gohan activated the control panel to view her cerebral images. "I have to admit that I'm angry, Cress. You should have told _me from the beginning_ when you first noticed the tiniest symptoms. It's possible that the experiment may have caused these problems late-stage, but we can't be sure. You had brain scans before we began working together, and the one you had before the seizure looked fine, according to these records you provided. When are you scheduled to see your medical team's neurologists again for follow-up?"

"Two days from now."

Gohan crossed his arms staring at the screen. He still wanted to know exactly what happened but ruled out prodding her more. He didn't want her mental condition to decompensate further. "You may need to return to the hospital," he said, turning around. "You know that, especially if what you're experiencing is some form of cyclical psychosis. It will only get worse unless you receive proper treatment. We need to know the cause. I'll find a way to keep tabs on your condition without being exposed. Trust me on that."

Bulma adjusted her clothing – her disguise – and grabbed the toy. "So, what shall we do now, smarty pants?" She smiled faintly, trying to reassure Gohan that she could keep her composure. Then, a smirking image of Vegeta in his blue battle suit emerged from the wall. She shut her eyes.

"What?" Gohan held out his hand. "Are you feeling something? Seeing something?"

"I just need to get out of here, Kaleb."

"You cannot leave alone. Your car is capsulized?"

"Yes."

"We'll go somewhere secluded where your sister can pick you up. Tell her what you told me as soon as she finds you. I will stay until she arrives. If you mistakenly say you were with me, so be it. And remember, you may believe you've done something terrible that you didn't. It's clear that you didn't physically harm anyone in your family, then – thank goodness - so that's my standard for now."

Bulma nodded, but Gohan's idea of physical harm differed from hers. Suddenly it dawned on her that she could investigate what she did earlier. She would check the video in the master bedroom. No matter what she and Vegeta did in there sexually, the recorder stayed on, which they were comfortable with. If someone attacked them, undeniable evidence would be available and sent elsewhere. However, the intelligent device was also equipped to cut out parts of the recordings to focus solely on recognizable, direct threats.

"I'll be okay," she said as Gohan hugged her. "I have to be okay."

"We'll all be okay," he said soothingly. "You, especially. I know the real you, Cress, just like Vegeta does."

Bulma held on tight as if her life depended on it. Gohan knew her reaction was borne from stress – nothing more – but his chest heaved from arousal. She even had a different scent now. His hand pressed firmly into the small of her back this time, until her breathing slowed. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better." She looked up at him. "Thank you for this."

He opened the door. "Let's go then. I still think you're disguised well enough to avoid being recognized."

Gohan recalled Vegeta's anger-fueled "snap" at the hospital. There, with his hand gripping Gohan's neck, the hungry look in the prince's eyes and his words sounded like the proud, unapologetic warrior the younger man once knew. However absurd it seemed, Gohan thought Vegeta was more in control that day than either Goku than Tights gave him credit for. He had considered options to speed up Vegeta's personality change, but Bulma's earlier warning had given him pause. He knew what she meant. The prince was far from ready for being pushed more without careful planning. Bulma said once that Vegeta had spoken excitedly of Planet Sadal. How could the prince not be convinced once he had faith that the same conditions could be duplicated on this planet? They just needed more time. They were so close.

As Kaleb, Gohan fully accepted that he _wasn't_ delusional. He may have struggled to accept his true identity, one that had been locked away far too long, but he knew _exactly_ what he was doing from day one. If anything, he had become more narcissistic, something Bulma had never been – at least at first. Now, she struggled with controlling her reactions. He wasn't. He had no psychosis: no significant auditory disturbances; no lack of self-awareness; no confused wavering. Bulma had these symptoms and needed treatment, not him.

No, not him. Sure, he had seen and heard Kaleb "outside of himself," but that was different. He had not been unclear or unsure of anything he'd done. However emotionally shaken he had been at times, if he were tried in a court of law, the judge and jury would rule that his actions were premeditated – intentional.

Tights was angry when Bulma called her. No, she was _irate_ – hotter than a nest of killer bees. Her sister had been acting strangely, yes, but now this? She hadn't told Vegeta that she was leaving? How many times had she done this? Vegeta had accepted that Bulma needed to make these little trips now, even though neither he nor Tights felt completely comfortable about it. But Bulma was an adult, and the secluded nature spots where Vegeta took her had become less exciting. Perhaps they had been far too restrictive, fearing too much that Bulma would suffer a severe relapse. Of course a strong-willed woman like her sister would stubbornly reject being contained too long, although her indifference about having friends around often hadn't changed.

Bulma didn't leave her car after her sister parked on the roadside. She didn't even open the window at first, wondering whether Tights should know about her visit with Gohan.

"Honey, let me in," Tights said, tapping on the window. "What's going on? Did someone recognize you?"

Looking dazed, Bulma unlocked the passenger door. "No. I was careful, but I need you to drive me home."

"Are you not feeling well?" Tights moved closer to observe her. "Are you in pain?"

Bulma head gradually turned aside. "I think I'm experiencing some form of psychosis and have been for a while. I need to be examined," she said flatly. "I'm losing track of time, and I'm seeing and hearing things. Some of these problems began before the big seizure."

"It's okay." Tights laid Bulma's head on her shoulder. "We can stay here for a while. Seeing and hearing things like what?"

"Images of people emerging from walls. Just hearing strange voices and off-pitch sounds sometimes. I had been okay mostly since I got home from the hospital, with some weird stuff occasionally, but now…" She clutched her sister's hands. "You had to notice something off with me, right? The mood swings, I mean. Earlier this morning my mind raced through these huge plans, and it just kept going. Then I practically tackled Vegeta for sex, after using my power to blow a hole through a can outside. I wanted to keep his attention."

Tights worked to remain calm. The part about Bulma using her "powers" unsettled her. She would ask Vegeta about that later. "Well, in some ways I noticed, but we've all been under high stress. You were in a drug-induced coma for a long time. Your brain chemistry was altered, and you just had a child…and…"

"And I tampered with my body."

"Your hormones are probably raging like wildfire," Tights replied, overlooking the comment. "Unfortunately, all of these reactions have likely become the perfect storm. Having monitored your bloodwork the last several months, I hadn't found any extreme surges of hormonal activity since your body transformed. That's been my biggest worry – that you would have another seizure resulting from those kind of changes. A brain scan may tell us more as well, along with other tests. Anything else I should know?"

Bulma sighed. "How am I going to face my family again? My children and husband will be frightened of me. What if I'm capable of harming them like I did with Iris?" Pointless question, she thought. She had to see the video soon. If she had more uncontrolled symptoms, what would she say? Would the truth be revealed before she could prepare Vegeta? He couldn't learn of this while she wasn't in her right mind. Her husband was the strongest, sturdiest man she had ever known, but testing his love and patience was taking its toll on him.

Tights kissed her hands. "You'll face them with me by your side, honey. We can treat this problem. I believe we can figure out the cause. You're speaking clearly to me now. Also, I doubt Vegeta would fear you."

Bulma entered her sister's car while Tights capsulized hers. Gohan emerged from a thicket shortly thereafter, watching them speed away. He had to quickly and carefully consider his options, which were decreasing, but he couldn't give up. Another man he was experimenting on was almost ready for unveiling, and this time he felt assured that this test subject wouldn't experience the same trauma Bulma had.

He would have his cult. He would have it. If he had to be the chief missionary for their noble cause without Bulma's financial and emotional support, then so be it. Other self-interested people – rich ones – would support his efforts, and once Vegeta saw the benefits he wouldn't turn away either. Gohan recalled three events that convinced him: when Vegeta first met Goku and arrogantly invited him to join him, instead of staying on Earth; when golden Frieza was resurrected and invited Vegeta to be his right-hand commander; and, of course, when Vegeta courted possession. No matter what the prince did to portray himself differently, Gohan knew the siren song of power had never left the man's mind.

Nope, he wasn't delusional. His hypothesis would be proven correct. He pulled his coat in tighter as the wind blew wispy snow clouds around his legs.

* * *

The baby's eyes studied the tiny balls of ki on fingers moving overhead, until he reached for them. He squealed with mild frustration when the pretty lights extinguished.

"No, not yet." Trunks smiled as Sorrel stared curiously at him. "Soon enough, little prince. You've done well." He stood back, removing a pair of white gloves from his pocket. Eyebrows dropping, he scowled and wagged his finger. " _Hn. Disgraceful_. You're allowing your good-for-nothing, mop-haired brother bully you, boy. No Saiyan son _of mine_ will go through life unable to defend himself. I will only say this once!"

Wiping tears from his eyes, Trunks laughed uproariously. "I think I impersonated our tyrannical father well, Sorrel." Expecting his brother to pick him up, the baby clapped unsteadily at the spectacle. Trunks often noticed small changes in Sorrel's development – good ones - before his parents did sometimes. Such was the case today. He had been concerned when Bulma left earlier. Her overall expression looked calm, but her eyes darted as if she was anticipating something. She broke down and admitted her desire to be in the lab for a while, and then she just wanted to be free to roam away from home. It didn't matter where she went. She promised Trunks that she would be careful and well-disguised. Her clothes and head coverings were stuffed into a bag that she retrieved from a closet in the kitchen. Luckily, even though her hair had changed, it wasn't long. The texture had also softened somewhat.

She said Vegeta had been awake with her earlier and that they would discuss her trip later. Hearing that rankled Trunks. Why didn't she simply tell Vegeta about her plans then? Bulma said she chose between letting him sleep restfully or not. Both parents were put through their paces tending to Sorrel at night, but Vegeta seemed to be taking the worst of it lately, considering that his chronic insomnia had returned. Bulma, on the other hand, had been living definition of kinetic energy. But there had been moments when Trunks caught her staring blankly into space. Occasionally she had a drafting book, which she would quickly close when anyone approached, as if no one would notice. On any given day she could be highly irritable, too, sometimes leaving the room to tend to a headache. She was having more of them. Then she would sleep, at times staying in bed for hours. Vegeta fed Sorrel on these days, using Bulma's stored breast milk or special baby formula, or Trunks fed the child.

Their parents hadn't been sleeping as much in same room again either. Trunks almost felt like he had to hold everyone together this time. His sister alternated between clinging to their father, which Vegeta tried to wean her from, and keeping herself entertained without caring whether anyone else desired her company, especially Bulma. Trunks knew this hurt their mother, but he continued assuring Bulma that this would pass. It had to.

Sorrel's belly was full now, so he put him down for a while. He also wondered where Vegeta was. The sun set almost three hours ago. It may have been the weekend, but his father rarely didn't check in when he expected to be late. Trunks punched his watch to check the two gravity training rooms and the obstacle course outside. Nothing. He couldn't even feel Vegeta's ki signature at first. How weird. His father almost never concealed that from him these days, unless he was testing his reflexes. Trunks could almost always feel something regardless. He walked the hallways, checking the guest rooms. Then, he felt it. Why was it so muted? Vegeta had to be sleeping hard.

He knocked hesitantly. "Papa, are you all right?" He opened the door of the master bedroom and stood within its frame. Vegeta was still asleep. Trunks looked at his watch. "Papa?" Vegeta stirred mildly in bed but didn't respond. Trunks observed the opposite nightstand, where two glass mugs sat. Both were empty, except for stray tea leaves stuck to the bottom.

Trunks approached Vegeta's side of the bed. "Hey, general. Wake up for me." He shook him harder. " _Hey,_ can you hear me? _"_

" _What?_ " Vegeta said grouchily. His eyelids barely opened. "What… do… you want?"

"Uh, I'm just seeing if you still have a pulse, dude," Trunks said, smiling with relief. His father's energy was definitely stronger than before. "You haven't left this room all day."

"So what?" Vegeta used his arm to rub his eyes. "Aren't you _happy_ that I'm getting sleep? I didn't even need those pills you and your aunt tried to push on me like drug dealers. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to get more rest."

Trunks frowned. "Papa, come on. You never sleep this long, insomnia or not. Maybe it's time to get up. Your speech is a bit slurred. That should tell you something."

"For fuck's sake, boy." Vegeta pulled himself up. "I am… rather fond of you, but that's rapidly ending." He realized that he had moved too fast. He felt nauseated as he tried focusing on Trunks' face. "Get me some soda water from the fridge in the alcove."

"What's going on?" Trunks eyes quickly zeroed in Vegeta's pupils, which were as large as dimes. Being a chemistry lover, he was knowledgeable of several substances - legal and illegal- that could cause this condition. "You don't look like you're feeling well. Can you get up?"

Vegeta thumped his son's leg. "Just get the water. I'm parched. I'll get up…up…in a little while, okay? I have slept like this before, though not often. That's what exhaustion does. Where is your mother?"

Trunks' feet shuffled. "Let me get that water. You need it. I'll be right back."

" _Sit down_ , _Trunks."_ Vegeta squinted at him. "God, you're so…so… terrible at this sometimes. I can wait. You interrupted the best sleep I've had in months, so… there must be a reason, and you didn't answer my question. _Where_ is your mother?"

Trunks looked skyward. Maybe he shouldn't have disturbed his father.

"Well?" Vegeta leaned forward. "We don't have all damned day. Spit it out." He then observed the baby monitor. Sorrel was cooing.

"Hi, sweet boy." Bulma said. Her voice was low. "Mama's home."

Even in his drowsiness, Vegeta recognized that she had been crying. Trunks, who hadn't figured that out yet, handed him a robe and slippers. "Leave me for a few minutes. I need to wash up briefly. Also, wait until I see what's happening your mother first before going in."

"Sure. Whatever you want."

Vegeta sat down as soon as Trunks departed. "Damn it." He still felt queasy. "This is crazy." But he had slept well, without any interruptions. He needed it. Making love to Bulma finally smashed the emotional dam blocking his ability to rest, he thought.

His walked slowly to the bathroom staring down at his watch. It was 8:35 p.m., which surprised him a bit. He glanced at the baby monitor with his peripheral vision. Tights was with Bulma now. Then, the sound muted. Why would they do that? He immediately straightened himself. He was tempted to activate the video screen in the baby's room, and soon gave in to that desire. "Why did you shut off the sound?" he said abruptly. "Is there something you don't want me to hear?"

Tights, who was holding Sorrel, received Vegeta's interruption solemnly. Her lavender eyes focused on his the same way when Bulma's doctors put her into a coma. His wife sat in the rocking chair on the other end of the room.

"Tights, leave us alone together in the room when I get there," he said. "Take our son with you."

"Vegeta, we should talk first."

"I'm only going to repeat this once. Let Bulma tell me the problem in her own words."

"Please." Tights' voice trembled slightly. "She's struggling right now."

"Okay. I'll be there in five minutes." Confusion swept through his mind. What happened between this morning and now? He couldn't enter the room looking a total mess, though. Worse, he felt like throwing up. What a terrible time to come down with a wretched human illness, he thought. While rare, the few he caught over the years had been utterly miserable. Breathing rapidly, he clutched his stomach and vomited. "Shit. What in the hell is wrong with me?"

* * *

"It's been long enough. We need to find Piccolo."

"I know, Dende," Goku said. "I have been to New Namek now. I didn't tell them directly why I was visiting at first, but you Namekians aren't easily fooled."

Dende smiled briefly, penetrating his face's thick layer of seriousness. "I didn't see anything nefarious when I checked on Gohan last, but I have other duties to fulfill at the Lookout, Goku. I can't watch your or Vegeta's or Krillin's family consistently. If there's something dangerous abreast - beyond normal, destructive human behavior - I would probably catch wind of it. But I'm still just a watcher and a healer, primarily."

Goku sat cross-legged in front of him. "Piccolo agreed that I couldn't be around when he appealed to Gohan."

Dende nodded. "Yes, and he told me to avoid watching them spar or monitoring their ki levels in Break Wasteland, if they were able to fight."

"Which they did," Goku said. "I'm sure they did that." He knew his son and Piccolo hadn't fought at their full base power levels. Piccolo didn't want to be found easily. If Goku and Vegeta focused hard enough, they still would have been able to find them. Piccolo also said that he would leave immediately for New Namek if he failed to keep Gohan's attention, and would be there for months. Their ki levels dropped as soon as the fight began, leading Goku to think, incorrectly, that Piccolo hadn't achieved his goal. He figured Gohan had lost enthusiasm, rejecting yet another person trying to figure him out.

Goku didn't think his friend was even capable of telling untruths now, especially after his fusion years ago with the honorable Kami, formerly Earth's guardian, and Nail, the powerful Namekian warrior. But Piccolo had lied, kind of. Now the pensive Saiyan had to figure out why.

"Visit the Wasteland," Dende said, purposely disrupting Goku's thoughts. "I have not flown the Lookout above there recently."

"Don't worry, Dende. That's where I'm headed next."

Being who he was, Piccolo was less angry than disgusted and disappointed. His pupil and longtime friend made several stupid strategic mistakes the night they fought, including drugging him. Piccolo still heard enough until losing complete consciousness. He heard Gohan appealing for forgiveness; he had fallen into a dark place, but the source wasn't supernatural. Piccolo had to figure out why.

He later found himself sealed and restrained in clear hyperbaric chamber when he regained some awareness. The restraints were designed to keep his body drained of energy, which he definitely felt. However, the drug hadn't been strong or long-lasting to remain effective. His mouth was also bound and gagged, and his eyes were covered. He could hear everything, though. He was in a lab, probably in the Wasteland, he figured. He also wasn't afraid, knowing that Goku would look for him eventually, even though he had lied to. He could have tried harder to free himself, too, but he gambled instead on learning more about Gohan's activities. A person entered the lab occasionally to inspect the surroundings. The man muttered, cursing about Gohan's instructions not to overmedicate Piccolo.

This bumbling, mush-mouthed fool clearly didn't know what the hell he was doing, either.

How could Gohan entrust someone like this with his welfare? Had he lost his mind? Piccolo heard the young man sigh and then chuckle. Now he was _talking_ to him – a barely conscious mortal. The guy sounded lonely and sad. Gohan had promised a better life, he said, and that he had been "a nobody since childhood." He said his dead mother would probably spit in his face for what he'd done, collecting bodies the way he had.

Piccolo decided then that he would wait a while longer. He couldn't control the man's mind, but he could scare the hell out of him using telepathy. Again, his anger flared. How could Gohan be this foolish? After everything he Goku, and Vegeta taught him? A wiser man would have kept _him_ unconscious and barely breathing as long as necessary. It sounded absurd, but this was Piccolo's normal thinking. He was a warrior after all. Whatever Gohan was up to would backfire spectacularly if this behavior continued. Worse, there was no doubt now that Bulma was too important to Gohan's plans. Above other concerns, that shook Piccolo. Vegeta had already surpassed several levels of strength. He had changed, but some darkness remained with him too. No one could tell Piccolo otherwise. The gods, who was mercifully granted Vegeta another chance, never said that side had been fully erased. The prince had merely demonstrated, most honorably, that he could be better than what he had been - in the most selfless way possible. They also recognized his unique brand of usefulness, as he inspired fighters and non-fighters to pursue excellence.

But if the prince reverted, and there was no chance of helping him reclaim his mind, Vegeta expected the Z-fighters to do everything possible to either neutralize or kill him outright without hesitation. He demanded it, and everyone understood. There would be no mass deaths by his hands. Piccolo also expected others to do the same for him, if he took the same route, since he was just as capable. He was getting ahead of himself, though. First things first.

" _You should be careful talking to the dead, kid. It could get you eaten alive."_

"What the fuck is this?!" Arms flailing, the young man twirled like a confused dog. The husky voice rocked his eardrums. "What the fuck is this? Who the fuck is this?"

 _"This is your fucking conscience."_ Piccolo said sarcastically. " _Say hello, because we're going to have a friendly chat._ _Now sit down!_ "

* * *

Tights lingered by the entrance as Vegeta entered. She managed to speak with him beforehand. He was moving much slower than normal and didn't look well. She automatically knew the difference being distraught and just plain sick. That concerned her. She picked up Sorrel and left the room, as he requested.

Vegeta knelt next to Bulma, taking her hand. "I…I don't understand." He looked down. "I should have known. The signs were there. You behaved strangely like this weeks before the seizure. Tights says this may be some kind of psychosis, as she calls it, which might have happened anyway, experiment or not. Your powers…"

Bulma shook her head. "Yes, I know may be a danger to everyone now. I _am_ dangerous."

"No, you're not." Vegeta insisted. "You're just unwell. This is a setback. We've conquered countless ones. You were well enough to seek Tights' help when you needed it. I am pleased about that, and you have tended to our baby well throughout."

"Maybe not as well as you." Bulma felt another headache approaching. "I want…I want to lie down, Vegeta." His image appeared again on the opposite wall, this time sneering and laughing, which she heard this time. Her eyes drifted between the real man and the imaginary one.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" the real Vegeta said. "Bulma?"

"Just get me to our bedroom." She had to keep her wits. "I'll be fine alone for a while. I'm sleepy."

Vegeta sat on the bedside when they arrived. "I'll return. Tights and I need to talk more."

Bulma's mind spun in circles again, but she had to hold herself together. She had drugged Vegeta. That was clear, based on his appearance, but she had to know if the unthinkable happened. Her unsteady fingers punched the code for video replay. Indeed, her husband had been sound asleep while she sat on the bedside. But she just sat there, lost inside of her head until she snapped out of it, became frightened, and rushed from the room.

"Oh, my god." She buried her face in her palms, crying. "I didn't rape my husband. _I didn't rape my husband._ Thank you, universe. Thank you so much." Watching herself lose touch with reality on video to that degree was terrifying. She had entered a depersonalized mental state that morning. What if this happened with Sorrel? Maybe she had an episode already, possibly endangering him. She curled into a tight ball on the bed, waiting for her family to return.

Then, Vegeta's image reappeared on the wall, clapping slowly . It was mocking her. _"Aw, isn't that sweet._ _You think you're off the hook now? You're making a fool out of him! What about that little drugging incident? That was all you, Bulma. You knew what you were doing. No one forced you."_

"Go away. I had…I had to see Kaleb."

This unforgiving hallucination rose over her. _"For what? World domination? You can forget that. Vegeta barely wants to sleep next to you most days, let alone build a new kingdom on this miserable planet. Give up this charade before he kills Gohan – because that's what the man's name is – or hurts someone else. Another thing: You can't hide what happened to your precious, long-suffering husband forever. It will come out, and that's the end of your marriage." M_ aniacal laughed filled the room. His eyes assaulted hers with images of Vegeta's past.

"Leave me alone!" Bulma covered her ears and screamed. "Leave me alone! Go away! Go away!"

Vegeta and Tights ran into the room, followed by Trunks, whose face collapsed from shock and hurt. " _Please, no more_ ," he thought. _"No more, especially not for my father."_

"Watch your brother," Vegeta said, facing him. His voice was firm and sympathetic. "Can you do that for me?"

Trunks raked his fingers through his hair and exhaled. "I will."

" _Don't_ … don't you go soft on me, boy, okay?" Vegeta grabbed the back of his son's neck gently, pausing to catch his breath. "Remember what we've discussed, and I still need a decent sparring partner besides your sister. You're all I've got, unfortunately. Now get going. We'll explain everything later. Your mother will be fine."

Trying to smile somewhat, Trunks cleared his throat. "I believe you. You're usually right, I hate to admit."

For all of Vegeta's toughness and seemingly boundless strength, watching his son leave like that again pierced his soul. Trunks never saw his possession, thankfully. Bulma's condition differed, but watching one's mother deteriorate remained a special kind of hell. Trunks and Bulma had adored each other. Vegeta remembered when he learned how his mother suffered and died. He was grateful he didn't see it. After years of abuse under Frieza's tyrannical rule, this final revelation hardened the prince's spirits entirely, until he met and married his wife.

Tights was able to calm Bulma enough to summon ambulance transport. Vegeta sat in front while his wife rocked in her sister's arms.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta," Bulma moaned. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he said. "I'm sorry too." Then reality hit him. He stared sharply at Tights before opening a telepathic connection. "Did you _know_ about this?"

Tights looked up. "About what? Why aren't we speaking out loud?"

Vegeta's eyes darkened with submerged rage and disappointment. "She saw him, damn it! She saw Gohan!"

* * *

 **Notes: So, I'll tackle the Piccolo side first. Why has Goku waited so long to chase him down? Well, Goku does rely on his instincts a lot, though he has been wrong many times. But he trusts and respects Piccolo's reasoning, which he's observed and admired for years. Gohan needs someone who can stop him from running away from himself, his father believes. While disappointed, Goku accepts that he isn't the one who can do that now. Regarding Vegeta and Bulma, yeah, they're at a horrible crossroads - but like Krillin said earlier, they still have friends.**


End file.
